Here We Go Again
by SylveonCupcake
Summary: With the 125th Hunger Games upon them, how will the Capitol and Districts react to the unexpected Quell? (Partial)
1. The Quell

**Hello! Welcome to my very first Hunger Games story! This _will_ be a partial SYOT, but I'll explain all of that below! For now, enjoy the story!**

* * *

"Sir, you asked to see me?" Alana asked. She clutched her clipboard to her chest nervously, biting her turquoise glossed lip. Her first year as assistant to the president, and she had already failed. The butterflies in Alana's stomach fluttered even more violently when she saw the bored, almost disappointed look on President Sebastian's face. He didn't even look up from his tablet to acknowledge her arrival.

"Alana, would you please come over here," Sebastian requested. Alana squeaked and speed-walked over to his desk as fast as she could in her midnight blue stilettos. He gestured to the seat in front of his desk and she immediately sat down. The president gently set down the tablet and looked directly at Alana. His grey-blue eyes seemed to look straight into her soul.

"Could you please bring me a cup of tea?" He said, his serious face slowly melting away. Alana breathed out a sigh of relief as her boss's expression softened. She stood up, tugging down the hem of her midnight blue pencil skirt and then snatching up her clipboard.

"Any particular kind?" She asked. Sebastian shook his head, still smiling from his little attempt at a prank. Alana then turned to the door and started to leave the room.

"Oh, and Alana?" Sebastian called after her. She stiffened and twirled around again. What did he have to say this time?

"Make yourself one too," He said, grinning warmly. She nodded and left the room for real, starting towards the room where they held the teacups, teabags, and all the other necessities for making Sebastian's favorite beverage. Hands still shaking from the scare, she pulled a pearly white teacup decorated with golden flowers down from the shelf (Sebastian's favorite teacup), followed by a plain white one for herself. She poured water into the kettle and set it out on the stove, waiting for it to warm up so she could make the tea.

"Hello Alana. Making President Sebastian's daily cup of tea?" a feminine voice asked. Alana turned from the stove to see the Head Gamemaker, Medusa Light. The tall, busty woman hadn't changed a bit since the previous year. Her skin was still gorgeously tanned, her hair was still wavy and golden blonde, and her lips were still matte red and full. She was dressed in a typical business outfit, consisting of a lemon yellow blouse, black pinstripe slacks, and a matching blazer with lemon yellow heels.

"You know how much he adores the drink. On particularly stressful days he'll drink multiple. Remember last year, when he drank four whole cups?" Alana said, giggling at the memory of President Sebastian, shaking from all the caffeine he had drank.

"Well, then you better prepare yourself for more than one cup of tea," Medusa pointed out. The kettle whistled and Alana gently poured the boiling water into the teacups.

"Why is that?" She murmured, plucking two teabags from the variety of flavors and colors that the shelves held and placing them into the water. Medusa tilted her head back and cackled, grabbing the full attention of Alana with her loud voice. When the Head Gamemaker finally stopped laughing, Alana gave her a look as if to say, "What's so funny?".

"He drinks a lot of tea on stressful days. This year is the announcement of the Quarter Quell! He's been glued to that tablet so he could review the previous games!" Medusa said with a chuckle, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Alana's eyes went wide and she scanned her clipboard, which she had placed next to the stove to make the tea, for any mention of the Quell announcement. To her surprise, it was right there on the page: **5:00 pm- Quarter Quell Announcement**. Smacking her forehead with disgust in herself for forgetting such an important thing, she fished the teabags out of the teacups, which now held a pale pink, sweet smelling tea. Tossing them into the trash, she placed the teacups on matching saucers and set them on a silver platter with little dishes of sugar, honey, and cinnamon.

"I'll carry the clipboard," Medusa offered, picking up the light object and bowing as if she had just done the most chivalrous thing in the world. Alana sighed and lifted up the heavy platter by herself, carrying it to the office. Medusa was not far behind.

"Your tea is ready!" Alana chirped, placing it down on the table and smiling sweetly at the president. Sebastian seemed delighted by the whole setup, pouring a little bit of honey in his tea before taking a sip and relaxing back in his seat.

"I see you went with the raspberry tea this time," He observed.

"I figured that you needed a little sweetness to calm your nerves, since the-ah- Quarter Quell announcement is today," Alana said quickly. Medusa suppressed a giggle and Sebastian's eyes fell upon the Head Gamemaker.

"Please, Ms. Light. Have a seat. I need to discuss the upcoming Quell with you two," He set down his favorite teacup and pointed to a seat. Medusa settled herself into the chair and crossed her legs.

"If it's about which Quell was our favorite, then I have to say the 75th. I'd like to kiss the person who came up with the idea for no weapons in the Cornucopia. Purely brutal hand to hand combat," She said, grinning widely. Alana's nose wrinkled at the memory.

" _I_ for one think that the last Quell was the best. Only volunteers made for a fascinating Games," Alana piped up.

"If by fascinating you mean _boring_ ," Medusa yawned. Sebastian shook his head at the spat and downed his tea before it got cold. At the sight of her boss's obvious disappointment, Alana clamped her mouth shut and turned her attention back to her own tea.

"Anyway, Medusa, I was just about to call you in! With the fifth Quarter Quell coming up, I need you to definitely make sure that the arena is amazing. Unless, of course, the Quell has to do with the arena itself. I want the whole shebang: deadliest bloodbath, deadliest weapons, and make sure that Sheena designs the deadliest mutts as well," Sebastian requested, setting down his now empty teacup and picking up his silver tablet. He tapped at it for a little bit, then spun it around to show the ladies an image.

"Now, can you two tell me what this is a photo of?" He asked. The two leaned forward to get a better look at the image. It was of a boy and a girl, both about 17 or 18. The girl sported dark hair and olive skin, traits of a District 12 person, and was lying on the ground, dagger in hand. The boy, who had been from District 5, had red hair and pale skin. He was standing over the girl, axe raised above his head. Alana narrowed her eyes curiously at the small screen. She definitely knew this image. It took place during a final battle for the crown. The young assistant, however, couldn't quite figure out which Hunger Games it was from.

"It's a victory battle from one of The Hunger Games. Easy peasy," Medusa leaned back in her chair, proud of herself for coming up with the simple answer before anybody else could. Sebastian nodded and set the tablet down.

"Yes. One of the more exciting final battles, in my opinion. I want that kind of excitement this year," the president demanded. He nodded towards the door and Medusa stood up and toddled out of the room in her deadly sharp heels to talk to the other Gamemakers and designers. Sebastian glanced at his watch and smiled with a violent glint in his eyes.

"Only a little bit longer… a little bit longer until the announcement," He whispered. Alana nodded and set down her tea cup before applying another coat of turquoise lip gloss. She wasn't quite how to respond to President Sebastian's murderous tone. Suddenly, he stood up and Alana immediately followed suit.

"Where are we going sir?" She asked, struggling to keep up with her boss. Alana felt a little guilty for leaving the dirty teacups in the office, but waved it away. She knew that the lower assistants would clean it up. That was their job. This was hers.

"We have a meeting with the stylists to get us ready for the reading of the card. You of all people should know that," He said calmly. Alana looked down at her clipboard and winced. Another thing that she had missed!

"Oh. Yes. Of course, sir," She mumbled. She ducked her head and let her strawberry blonde corkscrew curls fall into her face to hide her blush.

* * *

When they arrived at the prep room, the stylists who would be dressing and prepping them welcomed them with open arms. They were obviously excited at the fact that they were chosen to design for the high ranking Capitol members. When they got inside, Alana saw that Medusa was already getting her blonde waves washed.

Alana's hair was washed with a flowery scented shampoo, and a similar smelling lotion was used to scrub her down. Her hair was curled into its usual style, and they allowed her to also wear her trademark turquoise lip gloss so it would match her lavender and turquoise dress. Lavender kitten heels and a dusting of silver glitter finished off her look. Suddenly, pairs of Peacekeepers burst into the room. They would escort them to the reaping.

Medusa and Alana followed at a slow, steady pace behind Sebastian. Cheers of "President Grand!" and "Sebastian!" filled the crowd of brightly colored people. Alana held a brown wooden box. Medusa was pretty much just there for excitement and visual appeal. Her black and gold lace dress was absolutely stunning, and her black lipstick popped against her tanned skin. Many people in the audience also called out compliments to her. The two stood nervously as Sebastian went over the previous Quells.

On the twenty fifth, the tributes were voted in. On the fiftieth, there were twice the tributes. On the seventy fifth, there were no weapons in the whole arena. On the one hundredth, all the tributes had to be volunteers. Alana scurried forward with the box. That was her cue. Sebastian snatched the envelope marked with a 125 and opened it, clearing his voice.

"On the one hundred twenty fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even with the right supplies, they cannot defeat the Capitol, there will be no Bloodbath," He read out, followed by a gasp from him. All the tributes were to start at different areas of the arena. Each would have a pack with one weapon, one food item, and a varied survival tool. The Capitol seemed surprised as well. Suddenly they burst into applause. The three onstage looked at each other, confused by their joy. Then it hit them: no Bloodbath means longer Games. More excitement. More death. The three slowly smiled. They were determined to make this the most exciting games yet.

* * *

 **So, a partial SYOT means that some of the tributes are taken by me. However, the other spots are free for you guys to fill in! Also, there is a chance that one of my tributes will win. Not necessarily, but there is a chance. If that isn't your cup of raspberry tea, then just don't submit. It's that simple. For those of you who haven't left in disgust yet, the info, as well as a link to the blog and the form, will be on my bio. Ciao! Also, I will be doing a Chapter Question at the end of every chapter, so be excited for that!**

 **Chapter Question: Who was your favorite Capitolite this chapter? Medusa, Alana, or Sebastian?**


	2. The Mutts

Sheena Mink. Voted by the readers of 'Capitolite Weekly' as 'Best Mutt Designer' three years running. The young adult had started at the bottom as a lowly intern Gamemaker when she was 15. Shortly after, her natural talent for creating deadly beasts to kill people not much older or younger as her was seen. Slowly they promoted her until she was the head of most people older than her. She was pretty much a prodigy.

"Medusa!" The silver haired girl shrieked. The golden haired woman moaned and slumped into the room. Here she was, Head Gamemaker, taking orders not only from someone below her, but a kid. Why? Because the Capitolites worshipped her. They called her a prodigy.

"What do you want, Sheena? I really have to get back to work on the arena. And I'm above you. I'm sick of you bossing me around," Medusa snapped. Sheena spun around in her spinning chair and stared up at the Head Gamemaker with her animal like yellow eyes.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, Dusie. Get me a cup of tea. Black cup, silver saucer, mint and lemon flavored. A chocolate biscuit with cinnamon and orange jelly on the side. I won't give you a thank you since you yelled at me," She said coolly. Sheena spun around and went back to work on her tablet, using her stylus to sketch out a basic dog mutt.

"If you want to know, my basic theme for the arena is spooky," Medusa said. Sheena snorted.

"Spooky? What are you, five? We need something unexpected. Change the theme to flowers, with a side of cute," Sheena demanded.

"Spooky is too childish but flowers and cute isn't?" Medusa asked angrily.

"Well flowers and cute is unexpected. What is so important about spooky?" Sheena asked, casually turning the dog mutt into a bunny rabbit.

"Well, I've already created the orange sky, black moon that lasts all day, creepy trees, and fog that makes you hear and see things that don't exist. If the hallucination takes on for long enough, you can touch it," Medusa explained. Sheena laughed, a shrill, obnoxious noise that not even the Capitolites could love.

"Well, put it aside for the 126th Hunger Games. This year is flowers and cute. The mutts will have a twist. The flowers won't. Deadly flowers has been overused," Sheena said. Medusa just shook her head at the spoiled girl. Fame going to a child's head at its finest. Sheena turned around in her chair and slowly stood up and on her toes, getting as into Medusa's face as she could.

"Listen, Medusa. I have power in the Captiol. I have the power to make them believe anything. If you don't change the arena to match my mutts, I can spread rumors. Rumors that when I ever to sweetly gave you a suggestion for the arena when you were lost on ideas, you struck me across the face. Now, where's that tea and biscuit?" Sheena hissed. She sank back into her seat and twirled her stylus absent mindedly.

"Fine. I'll change the arena. But I will never. Ever. Get you tea." Medusa stormed out of the room, the flowy skirt of her red tulle dress trailing behind her.

"What a pity." Sheena hummed. "I really wanted that biscuit."

* * *

 **So, I know that this chapter was waaaaaaaaaaay shorter than my other. But I just felt like a shorter second prologue would help to build hype for the story. There are still plenty of spots left in the partial!**

 **Chapter Question: What are your first thoughts on Sheena?**

 **Also, I fixed the problems with the links to the blog and form. I finished the blog, adding the mentors, escorts, and capitolites. And Sheena will be on that list soon!**


	3. District 1 and 12 Reapings

**I can't believe that I got this chapter finished so quickly! I guess it was kind of easy, since two of the people were my own, but still! Yay!**

 **Warning: Displays of verbal and physical bullying in Gabriel's section. No cursing or anything too major, but I just thought I would still put this**

* * *

 **Maybelline Token, 18, District 1 Female**

"Again," the instructor demanded. Maybelline pulled back her training bow and released, allowing the foam tipped arrow to hit the dummy directly in the heart. She smiled. Absolute perfection. The instructor clapped as well.

"Once again, perfect. You're pretty much in tip-top shape for The Hunger Games," she complimented. Maybelline stiffened and turned to the instructor angrily.

" _Pretty much_? I have to be flawless! I _am_ flawless!" She snapped. The instructor crossed her arms and narrowed her grey-blue eyes.

"This is a games like no other. Without a bloodbath or cornucopia, you need to be sure that you are skilled in various weapons and survival skills. You can't rely on the large stash of weapons and supplies our tributes are usually given. Okay?" She said. Maybelline sighed and nodded.

"Alright, Mother. I'll brush up on some skills before the reaping at 2," Maybelline said with a slight smile. Her mother ruffled her blonde waves and moved on to help a 16-year-old girl with a spear. Maybelline made her way over to the only sword station that was empty. The one meant for 12 and 13-year-olds. She picked up a sword and scoffed at how dulled down it was. They might as well carve them out of foam!

"Belli!" A tiny voice squealed. Maybelline turned to see Violet Beckham. A just turned 12-year-old and probably her biggest fan. Maybelline set down the sword and turned to hug Violet.

"Hey, Violet! Are you here for a little training?" Maybelline asked. Violet nodded and then looked curiously at the sword Maybelline had just set down.

"Why are you using that sword? Why not the ones the best people can use?" She asked. Maybelline shrugged and put the sword in its original place rather than where someone could trip on it.

"It was the only sword station that wasn't crowded. But I don't think I want to train with swords. Maybe I'll brush up on throwing knives. Want to join me?" She suggested. Violet's eyes lit up at the thought and she started to walk towards the throwing knife targets for her age group.

"Violet? Why aren't you coming to this station?" Maybelline asked, gesturing towards the advanced station. She knew that less experienced people like Violet weren't allowed, but she couldn't help it. She needed to use the advanced station for her training and it was just this once, right?

"But Belli! You know that I'm not supposed to go there!" Violet reasoned.

"I'll get them to make an exception. Besides, you're _very_ mature for your age," Maybelline said with a wink. Okay, maybe that was a lie. If anything, Violet was way too immature for her age. But she needed a confidence boost. And the way she walked with her head held high while a group of 12 and 13-year-old boys training with the spears watched in awe definitely showed that she had the confidence Maybelline had hoped to give her.

"Hey, Maybell…" The trainer, who was barely 16, smirked while he gave her a handful of throwing knives. Maybelline rolled her eyes and set down the handful, selecting the dullest and smallest of the twelve knives to give to Violet.

"Hey, she shouldn't be here. She could get hurt!" the trainer pointed out. Maybelline sighed and turned to him, hands on her hips.

"Listen, Victor. I have a few things to say. First of all, no nicknames. The only exception is Violet, but besides that, none. Second, Violet is very mature for her age. She deserves more than those foam knives that do nothing to teach you. And third, does Father know that you're running the station without him? Because I'm pretty sure that you're underage." She smiled triumphantly. Perfect scolding to her younger brother? Check!

"Jeez May, I was only trying to follow the rules. Looks like Little Miss Perfect isn't so perfect," Victor snorted. Maybelline narrowed her pale green eyes at him before picking up a knife for herself to show Violet how to do it. Then, she chucked the knife at the target, hitting the dummy right in the heart, similar to earlier with her arrows. Violet attempted to do so, but managed to get the knife lodged in the ground a few inches away from the dummy's right foot.

"Aw, I did it exactly how you did too!" Violet whined. Maybelline pulled the two knives out of the dummy and the ground before returning them to the pile.

"Don't worry. It took me years to be able to hit the dummy at all too. I'm better with a bow and arrow," She reassured. Violet nodded and looked at the clock.

"Um… Belli? It's 1:30. Aren't you supposed to volunteer?" Violet asked. Maybelline looked at the clock and yipped.

"Oh jeez! You're right!" Maybelline reorganized the knives and lifted her baby blue training bag over her shoulder, sprinting out of the training center.

"Bye Vi! I'll look for you at the reaping!" She said over her shoulder. Then she ran as fast as she could home. She still had time, right?

* * *

 **Alastair Price, 18, District 1 Male**

Alastair tossed out another candy wrapper he had found on the ground, shaking his head. Honestly, who thought it was a good idea to just throw their trash anywhere? Alastair had picked up about fourteen different kinds of wrappers and other assorted trash on his walk home alone. Luckily, he didn't take very long to get ready and he lived close to the town square.

"I'm telling you dude! Violet Beckham hanging out with _Maybelline Token_. And they were acting like best friends! She even managed to use the advanced throwing knife station!" Alastair looked up to see a crowd of 12 and 13-year-old boys talking in a close circle. And people say that only girls gossip. However, Alastair only payed attention to what they were doing while they were gossiping: tossing candy bar wrappers and other food trash all over the ground.

"Hey! Cut that out! Do you want to make a better district to live in or not?" Alastair shouted. The kids looked up and snickered.

"Who are you, our mom?" one kid, who seemed to be the ringleader of the circle, shouted.

"Wait, dude. Isn't that _Alastair Price_?" One kid attempted to whisper in his ear, but Alastair could easily hear it. The kids' eyes went wide with recognition as they muttered various curse words, which they most likely heard from older siblings or other kids. Being the chosen volunteer had some perks. They hurriedly stuffed the wrappers and other trash into their pockets and scurried off, still in a huddle.

"When will kids learn. The more people who do that, the more we live up to the District 1 stereotype," Alastair muttered to himself. He unlocked his front door with his key and stuffed it back into his pocket.

"I'm home!" He called out. There was no response. Alastair shrugged. His parents were most likely still at work. But he had to get ready for the reaping. He reached into his closet and pulled out a casual navy blue suit and a white dress shirt. After putting those on, he pulled on a pair of black socks and black formal shoes. His hair was already gelled, so he figured that he might as well get there early.

Alastair stopped at a note his mom left on the fridge. It said **Feel free to take a pin from my collection! You earned it! -Mom**.

"Well, I guess I will have a token this year," He mumbled. He walked upstairs to his parent's room and grabbed the first pin he found, pinning it to the right of his jacket and walking downstairs and out the door to the reaping square. He hurriedly got in line for them to take his blood. He was ready to volunteer. Was he? Alastair looked down at his token for the first time since he had left. It was golden, shaped like a coin with a detailed burgundy feather on the front. That's when Alastair realized that, without trying to, he had taken his mom's favorite pin. And he was perfectly happy with that.

* * *

 **Gabriel Kohlmann, 14, District 12 Male**

Apparently, the other kids from school were planning a post-reaping party tonight. And Gabe wasn't invited. He didn't mind that much. Despite how fun parties were, Gabriel had other fun things to do. Like play board games with his parents and his sister, Natalia. That was probably twice as fun as a party. No, three times!

"Hey! Gabe!" Gabriel looked up to see two older boys with equally white blonde hair and pale skin. While one of them was more on the thin side, the other was sort of chubby. They were merchant's children, unlike Gabriel, who lived in the nicer part of the Seam, if it could be called that. He wasn't really sure where to call his home. It wasn't the merchant place, it wasn't the Seam. It was just… home.

"Derrick. Nolan. How are you two doing today?" Gabe asked politely, remembering his manners before he lashed out at the two. He held out his hand for them to shake, and the two looked at it in disbelief. The chubby boy, Derrick, shoved him back.

"Don't play nice. We were wondering if you got the news about our little party. We're not sure who blabbed, but don't think that you're allowed to come just because you heard about it," Derrick hissed. Nolan nodded, crossing his arms.

"I wasn't thinking about coming. I know when I'm not wanted," Gabriel said, putting his hands up defensively. The bullies narrowed their blue eyes at him, seeming even more confused.

"Seriously Gabe, you are _no fun_ to tease. You're too positive," Nolan complained, before cracking his knuckles, "So I guess we'll just have to punch you." Gabe looked around for help, but he had, once again, wandered into a secluded, empty part of District 12. Seeing Derrick and Nolan should have been the first sign. Before Gabe could run away, Derrick had pinned his arms behind his back while Nolan punched him. After a while, the two left him with only a bloody nose. They were most likely leaving to go prey on some other poor kid.

"Oh yeah! Gabe! Tell Natalia that she can definitely come to the party! She's hot!" Nolan shouted before sprinting off, laughing. Gabriel got up and dusted himself off, shaking his head.

When he got home, Gabe rinsed the blood off his nose and wiped it off with his sleeve before going inside to greet his family.

"Derrick and Nolan say hi. Nolan says that you can come to his party if you want. And that you're hot," Gabriel stated. Natalia's cheek's flushed pink, which was even more noticeable with her pale cheeks.

"H-he did?" She asked softly, fluffing her light brown curls. Gabe shook his head and turned his attention to his mother.

"Did you lay out my clothes for the reaping?" He asked. She nodded and he went into the bedroom that he and his sister shared. Lain out on Natalia's bed was a pale pink dress, with a calve length hem and sleeves that reached to her elbows. On Gabe's was a baby blue polo shirt and grey pants. Lined up next to the door were two pairs of formal shoes: a pair of grey men's shoes and a pair of white Mary-Janes. And on their dresser was some of mother's makeup and two bracelets. One was grey and black, the other white and black. Gabriel quickly got dressed and studied the bracelets.

"I made them earlier today when you were away. I thought it would help us feel closer at the reaping," Natalia said. Gabriel nodded and slipped the grey and black one on his wrist before turning his attention to his dark brown hair. Natalia took her dress into the bathroom to change there before coming back in to get ready with her brother.

"Don't worry. I won't go to the party," She whispered. Gabe nodded.

* * *

 **Liesel Akomi, 15, District 12 Female**

Liesel and her siblings ate their breakfast quietly. Father had left for the coal mines, leaving the four Akomi children to prepare for the reaping on their own.

"Am I going to get reaped?" Cassie piped up. The other three looked up at her. This was going to be her first reaping, but the chances were slim.

"Don't worry, Cassie. You won't get reaped," Liesel assured. Kaitlyn and Jordan eyed her curiously before returning their attention back to their food. When they finally finished, Jordan pushed back his chair, piling their bowls into the sink, which was already full of other dirty dishes.

"I can help Cassie get ready," Jordan offered. Cassie slept in his room anyway, so it would be easiest for him to help. Everyone nodded and Jordan took Cassie's hand, leading her over to their bedroom.

"Why did you tell her that?" Kaitlyn hissed the moment the two had closed their door.

"What do you mean?" Liesel murmured. She knew exactly what she meant, but she didn't want to bring it up.

"You know! Tell her that she won't be reaped! It's not like she hasn't taken tesserae or something! We've all taken it! Any one of us could be reaped and it'll be your fault for telling Cassie that nothing bad will happen!" Kaitlyn said, raising her voice.

"I just wanted to make her feel safe! I promised Mom that I'd protect the family!" Liesel yelled back. Kaitlyn went silent at the mention of their mother.

"Forget this. I'm meeting Porter at the town square," she mumbled, speed walking into the bedroom that she and Liesel shared. Liesel stood quietly for a few minutes, and didn't move until Kaitlyn had left their small house, reaping dress hurriedly put on and her hair still messy. At the sound of the door slamming, Cassie and Jordan poked their heads out into the hallway.

"What happened with you and Kaitlyn? I heard yelling," Jordan said. Cassie looked worried.

"She and I had a fight. That's all," Liesel said quickly, going into her room and pulling her reaping clothes out of her dresser. She first put on the simple black pants, followed by her tan tunic. She also decided to put on a belt, which was patterned with dark reds, yellows, blues, and greens.

"I'm leaving for the reaping. I'll meet you there," Liesel called to her siblings before leaving the house and making the long walk by herself to the town square.

"Finger," a Peacekeeper demanded. Liesel handed him her finger and he snatched it, tugging it towards him to prick it and stamp the blood onto a page. Once she was free to go, she made her way into the 15-year-old section, standing near the middle beside a merchant-class girl and a Seam girl chatting away about some party going on later.

"Hello, District 12!" the escort, Melody Melona called out. The pale, plump woman waddled onstage, her neon green wig sparkling. She read a speech from something clipped to a fruit patterned clipboard and then played the video they showed every year about the games. To the newbies, it was terrifying, but to most, it was a just a boring reminder of what they are forced to do each year.

"Let's start with the boys, shall we?" Melody called out. She crossed the stage, tucking her clipboard under one large arm, and dug her hand into the bowl. She pulled out three names, and selected two to toss back into the bowl.

"Maybe next year!" She giggled. Then, she walked back over the microphone. Slowly, she opened the card and read out the name.

"Gabriel Kohlmann?" her voice rang out through the whole town square. Liesel looked around and saw someone move out of the 14-year-old section. Many people, particularly two merchant-class boys, shouted insults to him. When he got onto the stage, he smiled brightly to the crowd and the camera.

"I'll try my best," he said, his voice cracking. Melody narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him before moving back to the girl's reaping bowl. She pulled out a name and cleared her throat.

"Kaitlyn Akomi," She said. Liesel gasped. Her sister, a part of her family, was reaped. She was a part of the family she had sworn to protect. Before she knew it, something was welling up inside her, until…

"I volunteer as a tribute!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs. She received stunned faces from Kaitlyn, Melody, and the two girls standing next to her. The crowd quickly parted and Liesel walked through nervously. Had she really just done that? Kaitlyn left the stage hesitantly, and Melody grinned at Liesel before turning back to the crowd.

"A volunteer! Isn't that interesting?" She said, chomping loudly. Liesel and Gabriel both looked down at her hand, to see that she was now holding a large piece of honeydew melon. Suddenly, Melody shoved the mic into Liesel's face.

"Oh! Um, my name is Liesel Akomi. I swore to my mother that I'd do whatever it takes to protect my family and I will," She said softly. Melody nodded and swallowed her last bite of melon.

"Your tributes, ladies and gentlemen! Gabriel Kohlmann and Liesel Akomi!" The crowd slowly applauded. Liesel looked over at Gabe, who was struggling to keep a smile. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

 **And that is the first reaping chapter! I know that I only technically showed the reapings for Gabriel and Liesel, but I felt like showing the reapings for District 1 would have been boring, since we had already established that they volunteered. I really hope that I did Liesel and Alastair justice!**

 **Chapter Question: What do you think of the two submitted tributes, Liesel and Alastair? What about my own tributes, Maybelline and Gabriel? Who is your favorite?**


	4. District 2 and 11 Reapings

**I'm sorry it took so long to finish this chapter! I won't lie, I had trouble writing it. So, that said, I hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

 **Twinkle Aisliin, 15, District 2 Female**

Twinkle stepped out of the shower, shivering at the feeling of the cold air mixing with the warmth the shower had given her. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself before taking a comb and inspecting her hair. Luckily, all the flour had washed out.

"Mom? What did you do with my reaping dress?" She called out. Twinkle wandered out of the bathroom and into the area of the house with the Aisliin family's bedrooms. Her mother, Astrid, wandered out of Twinkle's bedroom.

"I left it on your bed. Why don't I start on some breakfast?" Astrid asked. Before Twinkle answered, she left for the kitchen, leaving her daughter to get ready on her own. Twinkle went into her bedroom, shutting the door and locking it to keep out her brother.

"Okay, time to get ready," Twinkle muttered to no one in particular. She pulled off the dirty towel, replacing it with her reaping dress. It was sparkly and red, going to her knees and fanning out at the waist. It was a little too tight above the waist, but it did make her look a bit more mature, so it wasn't the worst thing in the world. She pulled on a pair of black lace-up boots, to add a little bit more edge to her outfit. She spun around for her mirror, looking at herself at all angles. Yup, she definitely looked more mature. She was interrupted by a loud knock at her bedroom door.

"Breakfast is ready!" Her brother shouted. Twinkle quickly pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and threw open the door. Her brother stood in front of the door, dressed in a wrinkled formal shirt and pants.

"Aw, you washed the flour off! I was trying to make you look better!" He complained. Twinkle smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Better luck next time, Alex. I'll be sure to try extra hard when I get you _back_ ," She gloated, making her way into the kitchen. Sitting at the table was three bowls of oatmeal. Their mother was already eating hers, but she wasn't dressed yet. Twinkle kissed her mom on the forehead and sat down to eat.

"Mom, why aren't you dressed yet?" Alex asked. Astrid yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"I'm just… tired. I'll get dressed in a little bit," She explained. Alex and Twinkle shared a look before Twinkle pushed back her chair and stood up.

"I made plans to meet with Ava and Lewis. Is it okay if I meet them?" She asked. Her mother nodded and she left the house, going over to their set meeting place.

"Ava! Lewis!" She called. The two smiled and went over to meet with her, Lewis giving her a little peck on the cheek.

"Gross you two! Not in public!" Ava squealed, giggling a little bit. Twinkle sighed and lightly socked her friend on the arm. Ava gave her one last smirk before they started to head over to the town square.

"Now, are you sure that you can go into the reaping area? I mean, you kind of freaked out last year and I just want to make sure that you feel safe," Lewis asked.

"Well, I can't volunteer if I don't show up, right? Besides, I think I'll be-" Twinkle froze at the sight of the town square, where the stage, sections for different ages, and the blood drawing Peacekeepers were set up. Her hands started shaking as images flashed through her head. Blood, the sounds of whips hitting a person, the sound of a single gunshot, her father's eyes going pale with death. She started hyperventilating and turned away from the reaping square.

"I-I can't do this… I just can't…" She whispered. Lewis wrapped his arm around her and took her hand.

"It's okay. You can do this. You're going to get through this, you're going to volunteer, and you're going to prove to everyone what you can do. Okay?" He reassured. Twinkle took a shaky breath and nodded, trying to stop the tears from coming.

"You only need to be here for a few minutes. That's all you need to get through," Ava said. Then the two helped Twinkle over to the Peacekeepers.

"I feel like a murderer…" Twinkle rasped.

* * *

 **Nolan Ryker, 17, District 2 Male**

"Hey! Mason! Swords or spears next?" Nolan called out to his friend, Mason. Mason shrugged and started over to the advanced spear station, picking up a training spear and swinging it around. Nolan followed him and picked up one himself.

"You excited to volunteer for the games?" Mason asked, a big smile on his face. Nolan's face burst into an equally big smile as he nodded.

"Yes! I just couldn't wait another year! The games won't know what hit them!" He said confidently, swinging his spear and jabbing it into a dummy.

"I envy you so much. It's just, Mom's sick so I have to take care of her, you know?" Mason said. Nolan nodded and patted his friend on the back with support. Mrs. Hero was like a second mother to him.

"Shouldn't we go home to get ready for the reaping?" Mason asked. Nolan thought for a minute, taking his time to hit the dummy in the thigh and then in the stomach.

"Let's just go in the clothes we have on now. More time for training, right?" He said, gesturing to their t-shirts and jeans. Mason looked a little shocked for a minute, but then smiled again and held up his spear. The two spent their time on separate dummies, talking about random stuff while jabbing the foam tipped spears into the dummies.

"So. This'll be a weird quell, right?" Nolan said. Mason nodded and set his spear down. He pointed to the advanced sword station and the two started towards it.

"Yup. It'll make it more difficult to band up with the other Career tributes." Mason picked up a sword and swung it around a couple times.

"And all of the tributes will have supplies, so it'll take mostly kills and not natural causes to kill them," Nolan pointed out. The two looked at each other silently for a minute, then they shared a grin. Mason swung his sword directly at Nolan, who lifted up his sword to block it. They sparred for a little bit before both dropping their swords and bursting out laughing. Nolan threw his arm around Mason's shoulders.

"But honestly, we should get to the reaping now," He said. Mason nodded and the two left the building, still laughing like brothers.

"Finger," a Peacekeeper demanded. Nolan quickly gave it to him and the Peacekeeper pricked it, stamping the blood onto the page. The minute he was free to go, Nolan rushed away from the line and into the 17-year-old section with Mason. The escort, Luna Dusk, shuffled onto the stage. She was wearing a large dark blue, almost black, cloak that covered every inch of her body. A part of her sparkly blue hair was coming out of the front of the cloak, and her dark makeup was somewhat visible, even though it was in the shadows caused by the hood. She looked kind of scary.

"Hello, District 2. I'm back for another reaping, even though I wish it was at night. Nighttime is so much better. With the stars and the moon…" She said in her raspy voice. Luna drifted off, distracted, so a Peacekeeper onstage started the video without the introduction. Nolan fidgeted with the hem of his shirt excitedly, eager for the video to end. It finally did, and someone tapped on Luna's shoulder to snap her out of her trance.

"Let's start with the boys first, shall we?" She said. Luna lifted a paper out of the bowl and walked over to the microphone. Nolan prepared himself to shout out and volunteer.

"Felix Cicero!"

"I volunteer as a tribute!" Nolan shouted before anyone else could. He grinned widely as the crowd parted and he walked up to the stage.

"Hello everyone, I'm Nolan Ryker, and I'm super excited to go into the games!" He said into the microphone. Then he stepped back and let the escort continue.

"Ok then. Our female tribute will be… Via Marcella!" Luna said. A girl shouts out to volunteer and quickly makes her way up to the stage. Nolan furrowed his brow in confusion. This girl looked 13, 14 maybe at the oldest. She quickly grabbed the mic from Luna and turned to the audience.

"My name is Twinkle Aisliin. I am 15 years old and though I'm small, I will win this thing and prove to you all that I am completely capable. Thank you." She handed the mic back to Luna and took her place next to Nolan. She certainly seemed confident.

"Ok then. Your tributes, Nolan Ryker and Twinkle Aisliin!"

* * *

 **Angela Meadows, 15, District 11 Female**

"My god, can you imagine _Angela_ in the games?" a boy asked, laughing with Angela and her other friend.

"She'd just smile at people and they wouldn't kill her!" Her other friend, a girl named Sheridan, giggled.

"Sheridan, Cliff, I'm not _that_ innocent. Who can be innocent when watching the Hunger Games? Plus, people don't just not kill people for no reason. Remember that 12-year-old last year? From District 5?" Angela pointed out. The two nodded until Cliff spoke up.

"Angela, you remain pure despite watching the games, okay? You've never cursed a day in your life, you don't make or understand dirty jokes, and have you even learned about, you know, _that_ yet?" He asked. Angela shook her head.

"I had the stomach flu on that day of class, alright? Maybe I am a little too pure in that sense, but I'm sure I'd rise to the challenge and fight in that situation!" She said, putting her hands on her hips heroically. Her two friends burst out laughing, and Angela had to join in as well. What she said did not make sense if you knew what she was like.

"Okay, it's been fun, but I need to get home to get ready. See you there?" Cliff asked. The girls nodded and he sped off in the direction of his house, which was in the poorer part of the district.

"I hope none of us get reaped… I don't want anyone to get reaped…" Angela murmured. Sheridan put her arm around Angela with support. They walked all the way to Angela's house, in the somewhat wealthier part of the district (or as wealthy as a District 11 person can be).

"Can I borrow a dress? I don't really have much when considering formal clothes. I'm sure my mom could loan me something but… I really like your dark blue dress," Sheridan asked. Angela smiled and nodded, pulling a knee length navy blue dress with long sleeves out of her closet. Sheridan smiled and took it, going into the Meadows family's bathroom to get dressed.

"When you finish I can put makeup on yooouuuu!" Angela chirped in a sing-song voice as she slipped on her own dress, a pastel pink dress with a nice collar and lace roses. Angela giggled when she heard Sheridan moaning from the bathroom. Still, she got up and pulled the little makeup she had out of her drawer and sat on her bed to wait.

She didn't want any of this to change. Not the group sessions of jokes during work, not the forcing of girly activities on the tomboyish Sheridan, and she definitely didn't want to see any of her friends die. She wasn't sure what she'd do if that happened. Cliff and Sheridan both had loving families, and she did too. Just because she never saw them, it didn't mean that her parents didn't love her any less. Her thoughts were interrupted by Sheridan coming in from the bathroom.

"I'm _not_ wearing makeup. End of story," She muttered. Angela sighed and turned to her mirror, brushing on a little bit of blush and some silver eyeshadow. She swiped on some of a neutral colored lipstick, and she deemed herself ready.

"Are you sure I can't put makeup on you?" Angela asked, sticking out her bottom lip in a fake pout. Sheridan let out a long sigh but then sat down next to Angela. She squealed with excitement and brushed some blush across her best friend's cheeks, followed by a neutral tan colored eyeshadow with only a little bit of glitter in it. Sheridan stood up before Angela could put any lipstick on her.

"Great. Can we go now?" She asked. Angela thought for a minute.

"Wait! One more thing!" She went over to her drawer and pulled out a sparkly blue hairclip shaped like a butterfly and clipped it into her curly black hair. Angela turned to her friend and smiled.

"Let's go," She said, looping her arm through Sheridan's and pulling her to the reaping square, giggling all the way.

* * *

 **Thorn Hilt, 18, District 11 Male**

"You think you're ready?" Thorn's father asked. Thorn looked at himself in the mirror and straightened his black leather jacket. Even if he wasn't dressed formally, only wearing a leather jacket, t-shirt, jeans, and red sneakers, he was going to prove to everyone that a District 11 person was just as capable of winning and making his family proud as any Career tribute.

"I still don't get why you want to do this, Thorn. The games are stupid and this is your last year of eligibility. Just let the person reaped go in and stay home with me," Victor begged. Their father sighed at his other son's negativity and turned to Victor.

"You know, I would have given anything to go into the games like Thorn is about to. My parents said no, so I never did," He said, scratching his black stubble. Victor rolled his eyes.

"So why force _us_ into _your_ dream?" Victor complained. Thorn finished touching up his hair and went over to his brother.

"Unlike you, I'm excited to go into the games. It'll be nice to show those stuck-up District 1 tributes that they aren't the only ones to produce a winner. The last time a District 11 tribute won was 38 years ago! And that wasn't even a legit win!" Thorn said. Victor sighed and stood up.

"Well, all I'm saying is that Dad shouldn't be forcing us to do something that we don't want to do. Hopefully, the Capitol doesn't find it suspicious that a District 11 tribute is volunteering and that they are well trained. Because that isn't suspicious at _all_!" Victor pointed out. Thorn and his father shrugged it off.

"Well, it's time to go to the reaping! Make me proud!" Their father said eagerly. Thorn nodded and Victor just rolled his eyes. Mr. Hilt led them out of the door and over to the area where they have the reaping.

"Just maybe don't mention to anyone the practice swords that I've made you to train with," their father whispered before he left to go to the family section. Victor crossed his arms and shook his head.

"You'd think Dad would stop after Mom left," He muttered. Thorn grabbed his brother's shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Listen, Victor. All this whining and complaining isn't going to stop me from making Dad proud. So what if you don't think it's a good idea, I want to put all those upper class districts in their place. Just let me volunteer and watch me win!" Thorn snapped. Victor was silent for a minute before breaking out of his grip and wandering over to another line to get his blood drawn. Thorn quickly got his drawn and walked over to the 18-year-old section. Everyone around him looked so scrawny and nervous.

"Hi District 11! My name is Flurry Lush and this is my first year escorting! Isn't that exciting?" Flurry shouted into the microphone. The crowd mumbled in response and Flurry looked confused. She was maybe a few years older than Thorn, with pale skin and bright white hair. She was dressed head to toe in winter knitwear, consisting of a white furry hat and boots, grey tights, a white knit skirt, grey sweater, and a white scarf with pom-poms. She looked a little out of place, but at least she wasn't in a more tropical district. The video aired, and Flurry pulled out some notecards and read over them quickly.

"Ok. Let's start with the female, okay?" She said. She pulled a card out of the bowl and walked over to the mic, clearing her throat.

"And the lucky girl is… Angela Meadows!" She chirped. Thorn heard a scream from the section for 15-year-olds and looked over. A petite dark-skinned girl in a pink dress was sobbing in the arms of the boy next to her. Two peacekeepers marched over and the boy quickly let go, trying not to make too much of a scene. The peacekeepers brought a crying Angela up to the stage and set her down. When Flurry held the mic up to Angela's face, she just shook her head and walked behind her, trying to hide her tears.

"Okay then… how about the boys?" She went over and pulled out a slip of paper and went over to the mic to read it.

"Cli-"

"I volunteer as a tribute!" Thorn shouted, already making his way through the other people his age. Flurry's eyes lit up at his eagerness and held the mic out to him as he walked up the staircase.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Thorn Hilt, future victor of the 125th Hunger Games, and I will make my family proud!" Thorn said into the mic. Flurry applauded and took the mic back.

"Yay! There you have it, folks! Thorn Hilt and Angela Meadows!" Flurry cheered.

* * *

 **And there you have it! The second reaping chapter! I really hope I wrote all of the tributes well, since I had some trouble writing the chapter!**

 **Chapter Question: What do you think of the submitted tributes, Twinkle, Nolan, and Thorn? What about my tribute, Angela? Who is your favorite?**


	5. District 3 and 10 Reapings

**I honestly don't know how I got this chapter finished so quickly. I think it was because I had some of it partially written before I finished writing Chapter 4, and yesterday I had nothing to do all day (therefore I had a lot of writing time :)). I really hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

 **Cornelia Fairsmith, 12, District 3 Female**

"Cornelia, honey. It's time to get up. The reaping is today. Your first year of eligibility," Mrs. Fairsmith shook Cornelia's arm until the tiny girl rolled over and yawned. She sat up and looked at her mother.

"Where's Dad?" She murmured sleepily. Her mother bit her lip and stood up, walking over to Cornelia's small dresser, pulling some clothing out of it.

"He's… at work…" she mumbled. Cornelia sensed a hint of anger in her mother's voice as she walked back over to Cornelia, reaping outfit in hand.

"Already?" her daughter whined. Mrs. Fairsmith clenched her teeth and nodded. Yeah, she definitely seemed angry about Cornelia's father being gone already. She then released all of her tension and smiled.

"Well, we have to get you ready, right?" She said. Cornelia nodded and started to unbutton her pink nightshirt, slipping it off as her mother handed her a simple white corset, lacing it up loosely. She then gave Cornelia a light turquoise top with elbow length sleeves, as well as a knee-length skirt in a brassy color.

"Do you want me to make you breakfast?" Her mother asked. Cornelia nodded and she left the room, leaving Cornelia to get ready herself. She slipped on the skirt and top, also putting on some light turquoise sneakers.

"I guess breakfast won't be done already…" Cornelia whispered to herself, sitting back down on her bed and smoothing down her short curls. She wasn't really sure why her mom was so angry about her dad being gone today. He was gone every day, so he could go to his lab and make different gadgets. That was just how life was. But maybe she was angry because it was a big day for Cornelia. Not really in a good way, but it was still important for her to have support.

Tired of waiting, Cornelia hopped off the bed and left her room, going down the hall into the main room, where they had a couch, table, kitchen, and small TV for viewing the games. The TV was required by the Capitol, and living in District 3 allowed them to have a more advanced model even if it was small.

"Is breakfast ready yet?" Cornelia asked. Her mother turned around, a bowl of cereal in hand, and she gasped.

"Oh my goodness! You look so grown up! I knew that the corset would make you look more mature!" She chirped, setting the bowl down on the table. Cornelia sat down and started to eat the cereal quietly.

"Of course your father isn't here to see you look so grown up…" Mrs. Fairsmith muttered as she went into the kitchen. Cornelia wasn't sure if she was supposed to hear that, but she did. Maybe her parents were fighting? She took another spoonful and quickly ate it loudly, hoping that the crunching noises would drown out her worries about her parents.

"Are you done with your breakfast yet?" Her mother asked. Cornelia quickly swallowed her last bite and pushed back her chair.

"Yeah. Can we go now? I want to get home as quickly as possible," She said. Mrs. Fairsmith nodded and took Cornelia's hand, leading her outside the house and through the district.

"Are you mad at Dad?" Cornelia asked before she could stop herself. Her mother gasped but then quickly regained her composure.

"Maybe a little bit. But he's just busy with work and not busy with his family. But that's not the end of the world. I get to spend more time with you!" She said, tapping Cornelia on the nose. Soon, they arrived at the town square for the reaping.

"I'm going to the family section. You get in line and then I'll see you after. Okay?" She said. Cornelia turned to her mom, confused.

"Wait, why am I getting in line?" She asked.

"They're going to draw a little blood, nothing major. You can do it, you're brave," Her mother reassured. She let go of Cornelia's hand and walked through the crowd of people over to the section for family members. Cornelia gulped and got in line. Everyone looked like a giant to her, even the other kids who seemed to be her age.

"Finger. Now," the Peacekeeper in front of her demanded. She handed her shaking hand to him and he quickly pricked it and stamped it onto a page. She barely had time to wince at the pain before it was over. She made her way over to the section for 12-year-olds and looked around. It was only her first year. Was she really going to be picked?

* * *

 **Lumen Cranter, 18, District 3 Male**

Lumen stumbled out of his bedroom to see his mother, Del and sister, Trexa, already sitting down to breakfast. His mother looked over to him silently before turning away coldly and taking another bite of her eggs. Trexa didn't even look over.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Lumen mumbled, still half asleep. Trexa shrugged, keeping her eyes down on her food.

"We figured that you could wake up yourself. You are 18, after all. You shouldn't rely on me or your younger sister to get you out of bed," Del snapped.

"Okay… are there any eggs left?" He asked, wandering into the kitchen. His own question was answered when he saw their frying pan lying in the sink and an empty egg carton on the counter. Lumen shrugged and pulled out a piece of bread and a jar of jam, spreading some on the bed and sitting down next to his sister at the table.

"Hey, Trex," Lumen said with a smile to his sister. His sister looked at him for the first time that day.

"Oh. Hey…" she murmured, quickly eating more eggs. She was already dressed for the reaping with a nice white blouse and yellow skirt. Del was wearing a simple black dress.

"I see you two are already dressed for the reaping. You look nice," Lumen said awkwardly. He was never sure what to say around his family since the incident. Del was a jerk to him and Trexa avoided speaking to him when necessary.

"Thank you," Trexa quickly said, barely audible. She put her plate in the sink and went over to the front door.

"We'll be leaving for the reaping square now. I trust that you can get ready yourself," Lumen's mother said, standing up and grabbing her bag. The two left the house, leaving Lumen to get ready. He sighed and ate the rest of his bread and went into his bedroom once more, in the back of the house.

"I guess I can't blame them…" Lumen said to himself, pulling some clothes out of his dresser to put them on. First he slipped on a pair of light blue pants. Then he put on a black button up shirt, tucking it in. Sure, it was a little baggy, but still wearable. Plus, tucking it in helped. He finally put on a pair of work boots and then he left the house by himself. Even if he had gotten up on time, he knew that his mom would find some way to avoid leaving with him.

Walking down the streets of District 3, Lumen watched everyone around him, all dressed up for the reaping. Various friend groups, some siblings, and even a tiny girl holding hands with her mother. Any one of them could be reaped and then their world would be changed completely. He had experienced that himself, at his own hand.

He quickly let the Peacekeeper prick his finger and sucked away the blood like he had all the other years. The escort, Camila Pollen, was already onstage, waiting for 2:00. She was just as tiny as she was last year, with her curly yellow and black streaked hair and matching striped sundress. There was one thing different about her from the previous year: she had wings. They resembled those of a bumblebee, and even fluttered every once in a while to show off their glitter. She must have had them surgically attached.

"Okay, everyone! Places, places! The District 3 reaping for the 125th Annual Hunger Games is about to begiiiiin! Remember everyone, S.P.I.F.F.Y.!" She chirped into the microphone. Lumen rolled his eyes. She had introduced that stupid acronym last year, when she was first hired. She started to clap for herself excitedly, and the mentor, Archibald Hall, joined in as well in support.

"Now let's watch the _super_ fun video so we can get on with the reapings!" She cheered. The video started, explaining the history of Panem and how the games started. By now, Lumen could recite the narration by heart.

"Wasn't that _cool_? Now let's get started with the reaping!" Camila said with a giggle, walking over to the girl's bowl. She pulled a slip out and sprinted back to the microphone, already opening the card.

"Cornelia Fairsmith!" She shouted. A loud scream came from the 12-year-old section and the Peacekeepers made their way over, already knowing that she'll be difficult to get up to the stage. Cornelia tried to hide behind another girl, but the girl pushed her out of the way in fear. They finally managed to get her up to the stage, and her crying was coming out in loud sobs. Camila didn't even try to get a comment from her. Then she went over to the boy's bowl, hoping for a better reaction.

"Lumen Cranter!" She called out. Lumen gasped and all eyes went on him. When the crowd parted, he quickly ducked his head and practically sprinted up to the stage. He didn't want any eyes on him, not from the district, and certainly not from the Capitol. When he made his way up the stairs, he dodged the microphone and avoided the camera. Don't be seen, that was the trick to survival.

* * *

 **Penelope Ruto, 17, District 10 Female**

"Is Penelope up yet?" Darren Ruto asked. His wife, Supurna, shrugged and looked over at the staircase, which showed no sign of their daughter coming down it. Darren turned his attention back to their kitchen, and started to make a reaping day breakfast, which consisted of eggs, toast, and even bacon.

"Her breakfast will get cold if she doesn't hurry up!" Darren whined. Supurna giggled at her husband.

"Darren, sweetie… the breakfast hasn't even been made yet. Give her some time to get ready!" She said. Darren blushed and turned to his wife.

"Oh… right…" He murmured. Suddenly, they heard footsteps down the stairs and both of them looked over at the staircase. Penelope finished walking down and paused on the bottom step. She was dressed in a black hoodie and mary jane shoes, grey knee-socks, and a navy blue pleated skirt. Her long black hair was styled to it hid one of her eyes, and she stared blankly at her parents.

"Penelope honey… you not have dressed up a little bit more?" Her mother asked.

"I'd rather not, Mom. Even if the spirits told me that I was going into the games, I don't think that dressing up will do anything for my reputation with the believers," She said sweetly.

"Spirits? Believers? Penelope… ever since you came home with that flyer about that 'occult' stuff, I've been worried about you hanging with the wrong crowd…" Darren said, trying to sound as kind as possible.

"Dad. The kitchen's on fire. Again…" Penelope gestured to the kitchen behind her father, which now had two flaming frying pans and a smoking toaster. Darren yelped and spun around, grabbing his glass of water and a dishtowel and rushing over to the fire. In the commotion, Penelope slipped by her parents and out the door, but not before Supurna noticed her.

"Penelope! Where are you going?" She asked, grabbing her daughter's arm.

"I have… things to do," She replied calmly. Her mom crossed her arms.

"You can't sacrifice any more goats!" She snapped. Penelope nodded and tried to leave, but she was stopped by her mom again.

"I mean it Penelope! No goats, pigs, chickens, cows… just… no more animal sacrifices! Andrew is dead and pig's blood isn't going to fix that! I'm sorry, but it's the truth!" Supurna said. Penelope stared at her for a minute and smiled again.

"Okay! I've been dying to try a human sacrifice! And Musuma has had it coming for a while now. All I need is some rope…" Penelope started to walk away again, and wiggled out of her mother's grasp before she could stop her.

"Penelope! No! I mean it!" Supurna shouted at the top of her lungs. Penelope chuckled. She wasn't actually going to kill Musuma Ronshana. Her blood was too rich to contact her brother. She'd need to sacrifice someone nicer, with the traits of her brother. Duh.

"Hey Penelope! Great outfit! Did you make it out of a skunk or manure? I never can tell from the stench!" Penelope looked over to see Musuma and her posse, dressed up in the finest clothes from the finest wool and silk all the way from District 8 and their home district, 10. Penelope plastered on her sweetest smile and looked Musuma straight in the eye.

"You know, Musuma… I'm still looking for a sacrifice to help me communicate for my brother, and I think you'll be the perfect candidate. It's actually quite easy, doesn't hurt at all! I'll just tie you up, brutally murder you with my knife, and use your blood to summon Andrew. _So easy_ , am I right?" Penelope chirped, slowly walking towards the group. Musuma stared in horror before screaming and running away as fast as her dainty feet could carry her. Penelope burst out laughing. Non-believers were so gullible sometimes.

"Okay. Time to be reaped," Penelope said to herself. She got in line behind a really tall boy, who eyed her weirdly and scooted as close to the person in front of him as he could. When they turned around to see why he was doing it, he just gestured to Penelope and they seemed to understand completely. After the line cleared out, Penelope stepped forward and silently gave the Peacekeeper her finger. She didn't even flinch when the finger was pricked and her blood was stamped on the page.

" _Oh my god it's her. That creepy girl who slaughtered all those goats last month!_ " Penelope heard a girl nearby whisper to her friend as she walked into the 17-year-old section. The people around her pushed back as far as the boundaries allowed them to. So, that left a nice gap for Penelope to stand in while people stared at her in fear and disgust. The escort, Pierce Blanc, went onstage. It was Penelope's time to be herself now.

* * *

 **Clyde Hereford, 12, District 10 Male**

Clyde sat at his breakfast table, barely able to eat. His hands were shaking so badly that the spoon for his oatmeal kept on slipping out. Brandon and Holstein were able to eat just fine, even if Holly was in the reaping bowl too. Galloway and Lianne were yet to show up, if they were going to at all. Gally was probably helping Lianne get ready for her last year of the reaping.

"Clyde? Are you going to eat your oatmeal? Do you not like it?" Mrs. Hereford asked.

"N-no. I'm just… not hungry. T-that's all," Clyde mumbled. Mrs. Hereford came over to his chair and felt his forehead.

"Are you ill? Are you worried about the reaping?" She whispered. Clyde nodded his head at the second one. His mom wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly.

"Don't worry. There's a lot of names in that reaping bowl. Plus, you have your cow for luck," She said. After she stepped back and went to refill Holly's bowl, Clyde wrapped his hand around the cow and squeezed it as hard as he could. It wasn't a real cow, of course. It was carved out of wood, tied on like a necklace with leather string. He had worn it for as long as he could remember.

"Who's ready to go to the reaping square?" a voice yelled. Clyde yipped and turned around quickly. It was his father, wearing the cowboy hat that he loved so much. He went into the kitchen, excited to see all of his sons sitting down for breakfast (minus Gally).

"Clyde! Ready for the reaping? I see you're wearing your new shirt!" He said to his youngest son. Clyde nodded silently. He hadn't even worn the shirt until now, since he was saving it for a special occasion. The only special occasions in 10 were the reaping and the birth of a baby cow, and Clyde hadn't gone near a cow in years.

"Are you ready, Holly?" Angus Hereford asked, sitting down at the table. Holly nodded, visibly angered by the nickname. But in the Hereford family, nicknames stuck and that was that. Clyde was too short a name to develop a nickname from, so he was deemed lucky by his 15-year-old brother.

"Brandon, are you up for the reaping? Would you rather stay home?" Mrs. Hereford asked her oldest son.

"I think I'll stay home. Maybe sleep a little bit more since I'm not required to go anymore. Is that fine?" He asked, turning to his younger brothers. They nodded, letting him know that they didn't mind him not going to the reaping.

"Do you need any help getting to your room?" Mrs. Hereford asked. Brandon shook his head and lifted himself out of his chair, leaning against his crutch to help him out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom.

"Well, let's get going!" Angus said. Holly and Clyde nodded and stood up, following their parents out of the house and down the dirt and grass roads.

"Clyde! Over here! Over here!" A voice shouted. Clyde looked over to see all of his friends in a clump, as if they were waiting for him. Dexter was waving wildly, obviously the one who shouted over to him. Monty and Gertrude were down in the grass, looking at something. And Maine had his nose stuck in a book.

"Clyde, why don't you go join your friends? Dexter can show you the ropes of the reaping," his mom suggested. Clyde nodded and ran over to join his friends. When he came over, Maine quickly shut his book and Monty stood up from the ground. Gertrude was still admiring what the two were looking at: a fat earthworm. But when she realized Clyde had arrived, she let it be and stood up as well.

"Are you guys ready for your first reaping?" Dexter asked. Monty, Maine, and Clyde nodded nervously, mumbling agreements half-heartedly.

"I'm not in the bowl until next year, remember?" Gertrude pointed out. While the others were 12 and 13, Gertrude was lucky enough to be 11.

"Well, you better go find your parents. It's not good to be separated from them at the reaping," Dexter said. Gertrude sighed, waved goodbye, and sprinted off to find her parents. Dexter led the remaining friends over to the line for getting their blood drawn.

"You see; the trick is to let it be done quickly. Then, you just suck the blood away and it heals quickly. It's just a prick. Watch," Dexter instructed. He went up to the Peacekeeper and gave him his finger. They swiftly pricked it and stamped the blood on the page. Then it was Clyde's turn. He gave his clammy, shaking hand to the Peacekeeper, who pricked and stamped it so fast that Clyde barely felt a thing until it was over. Maine and Monty quickly got their fingers pricked as well.

"Well, I have to go to the 13-year-old section. You three go over there to the 12-year old section. See you afterwards," Dexter said. And just like that, he had disappeared into the crowd. Clyde was so scared that he barely looked up during the whole introduction of the escort, Pierce Blanc, and the games. There wasn't much to see anyway. He was just a tall, skinny man decked out in white faux fur. And he didn't even do a very good job either. All he did was complain about someone named Roman Blanc and how stuck up he was about a promotion. They played the video quickly to cut him off, and Clyde could barely watch that either. All the images of blood and gore. That would happen to him if he was reaped. Clyde squeezed his cow carving for as much luck as he could get.

"Penelope Ruto!" Pierce called out. A skinny girl from the 17-year-olds was already half-up the stage when she was called. She looked completely emotionless and fine with the whole thing, too. Weird. Pierce moved over to the boy's bowl and pulled out a name.

"Clyde Hereford!" Clyde's head jerked up. That was his name. His name had been called. Out of all the boys, he was called. His heart was beating fast and his throat closed up, barely letting him breath. But he still walked forward. The crowd of newbies parted, allowing him to easily get up to the stage. He stumbled forward on the top step, and Pierce helped him regain his balance.

"Hello! You must be Clyde! Would you like to say anything to the sponsors?" He asked.

"N-no thank y-you," Clyde mumbled. He ducked his head and avoided making eye contact with his scary district partner. How was he going to get out of this?

* * *

 **And that is the third reaping chapter! I hope you liked it, I had a lot of fun writing these characters (especially Penelope!)**

 **Chapter Question: What do you think of the characters introduced this chapter (Cornelia, Lumen, Penelope, and Clyde). Who is your favorite?**


	6. The Arena

**Hello again! I'm back again with another chapter! Unfortunately, it is not the 4 and 9 reapings. It is the third (and final) prologue of the story! I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Uuuuughhhh!" Medusa moaned, slamming down her stylus, as well as her head, onto her desk. The arena was just too simple. And all because of dumb Sheena and her stupid threats. Her beautiful trees, her pitch black moon, her deadly fog. All tossed into the trash for the next games. Like she would remember all of her ideas in a year! Alana walked in and set down a tray with two cups of chamomile tea and a plate of ginger biscotti. She sat down in the empty chair next to the Head Gamemaker and lifted up one of the cups, blowing gently on the tea.

"Having a hard time?" She asked. Medusa, too tired to sit up, rolled her head to the side and looked at the president's assistant.

"Yes," She mumbled, rolling her head again so she was facedown once more. Her nose was squished and her hair was probably going to tangle if in this position for too long but, for once, she didn't care how she looked. Alana rubbed the older woman's back gently, peering over her shoulder to look at the tablet in front of her.

"No offense, but the arena seems kind of simple," Alana commented. Medusa sighed and finally sat up, leaning back in her cushy chair and staring straight ahead at her creation.

"No, no. By all means, rip it to shreds. All the Capitolites will and then my reputation will be ruined," She groaned, reaching for a biscotti and her cup of tea. After quickly dipping the cookie in the tea, she crunched down on the pastry angrily. Crumbs flew everywhere, landing on the table, floor, and even on her flowy white blouse.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be mean, but I do have a few suggestions. Maybe we could take a break and come back with fresh ideas?" Alana suggested. Medusa sighed and flopped her head back.

"Oh! Dusie! I'm _so_ glad I was able to catch you! I finally got the mutts ready, just so you know." Alana turned her chair towards the door as Sheena skipped in, her puffy pink dress making her look more like a balloon than a person.

"That's great, Sheena. Maybe the mutts will add at least a little flair to the arena," Medusa mumbled. Sheena leaned over her shoulder and looked at her tablet before letting out a shriek of laughter.

"That's the worst arena I've ever seen! Just grass and flowers and a few pedestals around the perimeter! So boring! It looks like the mutts really will be the _center of attention_ for these games," the Mutt Designer bragged. She produced a sparkly flash drive and tossed it forwards, allowing it to clatter onto the table. Without a goodbye, she was skipping back out of the room, obviously pleased with herself. Alana shook her head at the girl, putting her attention back to the arena.

"I think that the arena would be more interesting if maybe we added a few twists. Maybe if you added to the flowers. Poisons or vines or _something_ ," Alana pointed out. Medusa sat up semi-straight for the first time during their conversation.

"No, I can't give the flowers a twist. _Sheena_ said no," She explained sadly. Alana furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Sheena? What does Sheena have to do with any of this?" She asked. Medusa's eyes went wide with shock as she quickly put her hands over her dark, glossy lips.

"Medusa. Answer me. What did Sheena do that prevents you from making the arena interesting?" Alana asked, refusing to break eye contact. Medusa gulped, surprised at the young girl's sudden seriousness.

"Shm mmy hmmve thrmmtrmmd mm…" Medusa mumbled under her hands. The strawberry blonde sitting in front of her narrowed her eyes. The Head Gamemaker slowly lowered her hands from her mouth, revealing a large sticky mark on one of her palms.

"She may have threatened me…" She explained again.

"What?!" Alana yelped, jumping up from her seat. "She can't do that! You're her boss! An employee doesn't control her boss! The boss controls the employee! What is she trying to do, make the games a failure?!". Medusa watched as her once calm friend started pacing around her chair, rambling on about Sheena's actions.

"Maybe you need more chamomile tea," She suggested with a chuckle.

"Eh, it's cold by now. What you need to do is tell President Grand!" Alana exclaimed.

"But what about the threat? She told me that she'd spread a rumor that I struck her across the face if I didn't do what she said," Medusa reasoned.

"First of all, telling the president about it would surely keep her from doing so if she wanted to keep her job. Second of all, what proof would she have? You have some of the sharpest nails I've ever seen. A slap would surely leave some sort of scratch, and at the very least a bruise," Alana countered. Medusa nodded.

"You're right, Alana!" Medusa cheered. She pulled the short girl into a big bear hug. Ideas whirled through her mind with ways to spice up the 'cute flowers' theme of the arena now that she wasn't controlled by the little dictator. Maybe she could even alter Sheena's mutts now that she had the flash drive!

* * *

Sheena gritted her teeth from outside the planning room. Her idea was going down the drain! It was fool proof! If Medusa did what she said, then she'd be fired for a boring arena! And if she didn't, then she'd be fired because of the rumor that she would spread! But then little Alana had to go and throw a nail file into the whole operation. Plastering a grin on her face, Sheena slinked back into the room.

"President Grand wants to see you, Medusa! Hopefully nothing important…" Sheena purred. Alana winked at Medusa and gave her a thumbs up.

"I'll be glad to meet with him! I have some stuff to discuss!" Medusa snarled before quickly leaving the room and making a sharp turn in the direction of Sebastian's office. Now that she was gone, Sheena turned to Alana.

"Alana, could you come with me? It'll only take a second…" She asked. The assistant nodded and followed the younger girl out of the room and in the opposite direction that Medusa went. For a while, the only sound was the clicking of two pairs of heels. Finally, Sheena spoke up.

"Alana, do you know what my job means to me?" She asked coolly.

"Enough that you'll cheat and lie and manipulate your boss?" Alana snapped. Sheena raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was mousy little Alana being mouthy? Sheena stopped quickly and turned to the girl.

"Close, but no. My job means everything to me. And that means that I'll do _whatever it takes_!" She shouted, narrowing her eyes and the older, though smaller, girl. Alana gulped and took a few steps back. She last thing she heard was her own high pitched scream echoing through the halls.

* * *

 **Dun dun dun! That, my friends, is the last prologue of Here We Go Again! Hopefully the twist made you excited, so you'll just have to keep reading to find out what happens next!**

 **Chapter Question- What do you think happened to Alana? Do you think this is the last of our adorable assistant?**


	7. District 4 and 9 Reapings

**Yes! The 4 and 9 reapings are now out! I hope you enjoy this chapter, especially since it is my longest one yet (yay me!)**

* * *

 **Troy Roman, 17, District 4 Male**

Troy sighed and looked out to the ocean from the large window in his bedroom. How he longed to be out there, the waves lapping by his feet, fishermen waving to him. The ocean was his favorite place in the world. But he couldn't go there today. Not on the day of the reaping. He turned to the small glass bowl sitting on a table next to the window.

"Hungry, Bay?" He asked the small fish swimming around inside. Despite no response from Bay, Troy picked up a small can of fish food and shook some into the bowl. Bay swam around faster, furiously trying to eat as much of the food he could. Troy chuckled and looked out the window. Someone was actually out to sea today. A girl in a blue dress laying on a raft.

"I wish I could join her," the boy mumbled as he watched her relax with a book. Bay finally finished all of his food and started swimming through the fake plants he had been given throughout the years.

"Troy? Are you ready yet?" Troy's father, Eddy, shouted from below the staircase. Troy ran his fingers through his blonde hair and walked out of his large bedroom. Waiting at the bottom was his father, dressed in a handsome suit.

"Are you sure we can't take her out to sea, just for a little bit?" Troy begged. Eddy chuckled and shook his head.

"On any other day, I'd say yes. I love 'The Royal Eagle' more than you do. But we can't be late. A family of our status can't be late to such an important event," his father reasoned. Troy nodded glumly and walked into their large dining room. His mother and sister were finishing up their meals, and his mom handed him a piece of toast with some jam on it.

"We have time to eat but not time to sail?" Troy asked his family.

"Troy, sailing and eating are two very different things. Plus, this is _your_ favorite jam…" Marina told him. Troy sniffed the jam and he realized how hungry he'd been. He sat down beside his family and chomped into the toast.

"Do you guys know who's volunteering this year?" Penny asked. The other three turned towards her, somewhat shocked. Her question was completely out of the blue and none of them knew the answer.

"Not a lot of people have really been going to the training center lately, so I don't even know if anyone is planning to…" Troy murmured. He wasn't lying either. Spirits were low for District 4 when it came to producing two beautiful, strong Career tributes for the games every year. In fact, District 4 hadn't had a victor for 8 years. It wasn't really that long, but they were expected to have more victors than that! Meanwhile, the outer districts were busy pumping out victors.

"Oh well, it's not like we took out tesserae, right?" Penny said. Everyone nodded and Troy took the last bite of his toast. He had nothing to worry about. This had been happening every year now. There's always the two 16-18 year olds who had been the only ones using the center and they volunteer last minute. Not the most organized method, but they had tributes, right?

"Well, we should get going. Maybe we can at least look at the ocean on the way there," Eddy said, winking at Troy. Everyone pushed back their chairs, leaving their dishes. They would clean them up when they returned.

"Do we really have to go all together?" Penny whined as they walked in a group to the town square.

"Yes, a family that walks to the reaping together stays together," Eddy said. Marina chuckled while Penny moaned with embarrassment.

"That doesn't even make sense!" She groaned. As his family continued their… lively conversation, Troy gazed out to the ocean. The girl on the raft was gone, most likely making her way to the reaping as well. Troy just really hoped someone would volunteer. Whoever was reaped wouldn't deserve it.

"Troy! Troy did you hear my question?" Marina asked. Troy snapped out of his trance and turned to his family.

"Sorry, what did you say?" He asked.

"I asked if you thought you were ready. You know, just in case?" She said.

"I can swim, I can fish, and I'm bigger and taller than most of the kids in there. Those are pretty good skills in my opinion," Troy said. His mother beamed at her son's optimism.

"That's my boy!" Eddy said affectionately, rubbing his son on the head and messing up his wavy hair. Everyone laughed as Troy struggled to fix his messed up hair without the aid of a mirror. It was like a snapshot of a perfect moment in life. Something that he wanted to last forever.

* * *

 **Amara Malik, 17, District 4 Female**

Amara gripped the railing of her family's houseboat. She had done this dozens of times. All she had to do was hop over the railing and she'd land safely on her raft. Only this time, she had to be careful. She couldn't miss the raft and land in the water, or else both her dress and book would be ruined.

"It's okay, I can do this…" She told herself. Then, she kicked off her tan flats and pulled herself over the railing, book tucked under her arm. Amara clung to the outside of the house boat and slowly lowered herself down onto the raft, setting down her book and lying next to it. Then, she stretched one of her tanned arms out to push herself away from the boat, gently floating off with the waves. The whole picture was quite relaxing. The calm blue sky mixed with the sea-green waves. She would spend all day there if she could. If only the reaping wasn't today.

"No!" Amara snapped. Luckily, no one was there to hear her. She shook any thoughts of the reaping out of her head and then she rolled over onto her stomach, lifting up her book and opening it. She hadn't really noticed how beat up it had gotten. All those trips on her raft, all that time spent underneath her mattress so her brothers wouldn't read it.

Amara looked up from the page and gazed out into the horizon. She wished she could leave this place. She could pack a bag with some food and her book and sail her little raft as far as the horizon was and see the places she read about in her book. The plains of sand, the mountains that touch the sky, the ice cliffs taller than the tallest buildings. It all sounded so exciting and fun. Just one big adventure. But they'd catch her.

" _Way to ruin the daydream_!" She scolded herself. She slammed the book closed and sat up. She definitely had drifted far from home, over near the wealthy part of the district. Her family was probably wondering where she was. Amara sighed and leaned her arm down into the smooth water, paddling herself back to where the fishing community was. There, she found her mother clutching a towel.

"There you are!" She gasped. She obviously had been waiting for quite a while. Amara tucked her book under one arm and, none too gracefully, hauled herself over the railing.

"At least you had enough sense not to get your dress too wet," Her mother said, handing her only daughter the towel. Amara draped it over her shoulders, despite not being dripping wet, and thanked her mother before walking over to her room. She quietly slid the book under her mattress and went into the family room, where her father and brothers were watching some sort of Capitol news program on their television.

" _The young assistant was found unconscious in the hallway. Luckily-_ " the purple haired reporter was paused when Mr. Malik, also known as Blitz, noticed his daughter standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Come watch, Amara! Apparently someone is suspected to be targeting President Grand's assistant!" Condor exclaimed. Amara shrugged off the towel and tossed it onto the couch, getting it to land between Wedge and Donner.

"No thanks. Maybe I'll go to the reaping now and not late like last year," She said.

"Suit yourself," Donner said with a shrug. He then leaned over Condor's lap to grab the remote from his dad and turn the program back on.

As Amara walked to the town square, her shoes now on again, she wished she had brought her book with her. Or at least something to keep her entertained. The streets weren't crowded or full of interesting, familiar faces, but rather bunches of mothers and fathers making sure that their 12-year-olds were prim and proper for their first reaping. Amara then passed by the training center. What was once the hotspot of District 4 was now more obsolete than Capitol newspapers, since televisions were now there to broadcast news stories. But there were always the few loners who went there to train and volunteer. Even so, most children in 4 were trained with spears and weaving and fishing and knot-tying, along with other skills. Suddenly, Amara noticed that she was at the town square. She quickly jogged up to the only Peacekeeper without a line and handed him her finger like the years before. She could see Valentine Rosen, the old escort, waiting impatiently for the ceremony to begin.

"C'mon everyone, let's get moving! We can't be late!" He snapped into the microphone. Amara had seen photos of him when he was younger, and his hair was bright pink. Since then, it had aged into a pale, dusty rose color, which was actually more fitting to his namesake than the hideous neon color. People pushed her forward and she took her place in the 17-year-old section. Now that things were beginning, Valentine became more pleasant.

"Hello, and welcome to the reaping for the 125th annual Hunger Games! We'll be watching a nice video about the history of the games, then we'll reap our two lucky tributes!" He chirped into the mic, smoothing down his white suit and pale pink button up shirt. Amara knew all about the history of Panem from books. 13 was obliterated, the games were created to keep order, blah, blah, blah. Everyone knew that, so honestly the video was a waste of time. Valentine walked over to the girl's reaping bowl as the video came to an end, pulling out a slip and walking back over to the microphone.

"Amara Malik," He read out. Amara's heart beat fast, but she stayed in place. Any minute now, someone would volunteer. There was always a volunteer. But no one did.

"Amaraaa! Are you there?" Valentine called out. Amara gulped and made her way up to the stage, terrified. She wasn't going to survive this. She knew she wasn't.

"Hello, Amara! Aren't you just lovely today! You've been lucky enough to get reaped!" Valentine said, smiling and holding out his hand. She shook it and tried not to get blinded by his pearly whites.

"Now let's see the handsome young gentleman who will join her!" the escort announced, taking a slip from the boy's reaping bowl. For someone so old, he certainly still had a lot of charm and charisma built up.

"Troy Roman! Please come up to the stage!" He called out cheerfully. Amara saw movement in the 17-year-old section, where she had just been. She even recognized the boy walking up. He lived in one of the largest mansions in the district. When he finished walking to the stage, he wouldn't take his eyes off the ocean. Once again, no one volunteered, and he let out a sigh of disappointment.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AMARA MALIK AND TROY ROMAN!" Valentine cheered. Amara and Troy didn't say anything. They were too disappointed to say anything.

* * *

 **Poppy Miller, 13, District 9 Female**

"COME BACK HERE YOU DELINQUENTS! FIX WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO MY PLANTS!" Ms. Winchester snapped. The elderly woman shook her fist at the crowd of kids skateboarding away from her home. Next to her, the woman's once beautiful flower beds had been trampled.

"I'm telling your parents! Or at least getting someone to do so!" She yelled. But her threats had no effect on the kids. They just laughed and moved faster from the scene of the crime. The posse of skateboarders uneasily rounded a corner into the poorer area of the district. Poppy had the honor of kicking the shack door until it creaked open, and the group of four quickly bustled inside, boards in hand. They then collapsed onto the ground or the small bench they had set up, laughing.

"That was the greatest prank we've ever pulled!" Persephone snorted, barely able to contain herself as she rolled backwards in a fit of giggles.

"I don't know. I think that vandalizing Ms. Winchester's porch with curse words takes the cake," Apollo pointed out. Poppy nodded stopped herself from laughing so she could talk.

"I'm with Apollo! That was hysterical! She nearly fainted when she saw it all over the wood, in neon green and red!" Poppy said, remembering the prank fondly. Milo stopped laughing and sat up on the ground, looking thoughtful.

"Is something on your mind, Milo?" Persephone asked once her laughing fit was over.

"Or is Milo the Weirdo being weird again?" Poppy said, giving the boy a shove. Milo kept his balance despite the redhead's roughness and brushed off his reaping sweater. In fact, Milo was the only one dressed for the reaping already.

"Have you ever realized how most of our pranks are aimed towards Ms. Winchester? I feel kind of bad sometimes, the way we treat her…" Milo pointed out, his voice getting softer as the others stared at him. "She really is a sweet lady, so I don't know why we-"

"She has told my parents about what we've done numerous times. She's the reason I need to climb out my window- into rose bushes, I may add- just so I can hang out with you guys! She's a jerk and deserves everything that's coming to her!" Poppy snapped, cutting her friend off in the process. Apollo and Persephone nodded, and Milo clamped his mouth shut. He then turned his attention to his skateboard, absent-mindedly turning one of the wheels.

"Sorry guys, but I have to go. I'm probably late going home to get ready. I'm just going to leave my board here," Persephone said, standing up and rushing out the door. Milo was quick to follow, along with Apollo. Then, Poppy was left alone in the old shack with everyone's boards. She picked up her own and left the shack too, closing the door so it was stuck again.

"Make way for Poppy!" She shouted to everyone as she skateboarded down the road. Everyone yelped and ducked out of the way in fear of getting hit by the redhead. When she returned home, her parents were standing with their arms crossed, angry looks on their faces. Poppy skidded to a stop and hopped off her board. Her nonchalant attitude about the whole thing made her father even angrier.

"You weren't in your room this morning and your window was open!" Her mother exclaimed.

"I wasn't sure where you went, but when Maryanne Boyce came up and told us that you had VANDALIZED MS. WINCHESTER'S HOUSE _AGAIN_ , you were with your _gang_!" Her father roared, saying gang with as much disgust as he could. Poppy rolled her eyes and pushed past them.

"The old hag needed to learn some manners, okay? We only prank people who deserve it… and those who don't," She said with a chuckle.

"Natalie Winchester is a sweet old woman who deserves respect! And maybe you're the one who needs to learn some manners!" Her mother scolded.

"Go get dressed for the reaping. We'll deal with your punishment afterwards," Her father added, snatching up her skateboard and tucking it under an arm before going inside with his wife. Poppy quickly ran inside before she was locked out, sprinting to her room and slamming the door. Her mother had done the honors of picking out her clothing for her, a way of saying 'Wear this or be grounded for a month'.

"Of course she makes me wear a skirt," Poppy mumbled angrily. She yanked off her dusty sneakers, jeans, and long-sleeved shirt, trading it for a neat white blouse, black skirt, and formal flats. One look in the mirror and she wanted to throw up. She walked to the mirror and smoothed down her long curls to at least make them look somewhat nice, but then an idea popped into her head.

"Guess I'll be going to the reaping with my friends after all," She muttered with a mischievous grin. Poppy grabbed the chair from the vanity her mother insisted on putting in her bedroom and pulled it over to the door, positioning it under the doorknob to at least block it for a little bit. Then, she ran over to the window and leaped out like she had so many times before. Though the hem of her skirt and her right sleeve got caught on the thorns and a few leaves got in her hair, she was pretty much unharmed by her quick landing. Poppy chuckled and looked back to her home one last time.

"Smell ya later, losers," She whispered to herself before sprinting through her district over to the town square.

* * *

 **Samson Trellis, 16, District 9 Male**

Unhappy. That was the word that most described Samson's feelings on the day of the reaping. Yes, he was worried. Scared was also a word you could use. But unhappy summed it all up.

"Cora, are you just going to sit there and stare at your oatmeal or are you going to get ready? Dad can't come home from work, if that's why you're waiting," He told his sister. Coraline looked up from the half-empty bowl of food as if she was snapping out of a daze.

"Sorry, sorry. I'll finish up and get dressed in a little bit," She apologized. Samson tapped his wrist to signify that she needed to hurry up and then went to the bedroom that they shared to get himself ready. He was definitely glad that people of reaping age weren't required to work on the day of the reaping, even if people like his father were.

"You better be eating quickly!" He shouted out to his sister.

"I am!" Cora called back. Then the two went silent, both absorbed in their own activities. Coraline was downing her oats before her brother started nagging again, while Samson was putting on his nicest work shirt and the cleanest pants that he could find. The dark blue color of the shirt looked nice with his dark skin, and he overall looked formal enough. So, he was dressed well enough to fit in with the unofficial dress code of the reaping.

"I'm just going to get dressed really quick!" Cora reassured him, bustling into the room and grabbing her dress, leaving as quickly as she came in. Samson, now ready for the reaping, sat back down at the dinner table. A cluster of kids wooshed by the window, their combined laughter making for an annoying shrieking sound. They were probably from the richer part of the district, where they didn't need to worry about getting reaped as much as the Trellis family did. Samson and Coraline both needed to take tesserae, just like anyone else in the neighborhood and most likely everyone else who worked as much as Samson had to. Even Samson's friends had a higher chance of being reaped.

"Okay! I'm ready, let's go," Coraline said, coming into the main room and over to Samson. She opened their front door and the two went out, making sure to close and lock the door behind them. They silently walked down the dirt roads of the grain district, making sure to stay close to each other so they wouldn't get separated.

"I'm sorry for nagging you like that," Samson told his sister. She smiled and squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"It's fine. You don't mean to come off as rude. You just didn't want to be late. I get that," She said. Samson nodded and squeezed her hand back.

On their way to the reaping, more people (specifically Samson's three best friends besides his sister) joined them.

"Hey guys! Ready to die?" He asked them when they arrived, chuckling a little bit afterwards. While Coraline gave him a strange look, the three boys laughed with him. Though morbid, the joke was funny enough to them. Besides, this was normally how Samson joked around. They were used to it.

"Well, we're one step closer with all the tesserae we've taken," Davis teased back. After that, Coraline let go of Samson's hand and walked over to the Peacekeeper station, leaving the teenage boys to laugh at their own gruesome jokes.

"Oh well, we better get this over with," Carter said. They all went over to the station and lined up for their fingers to be pricked.

"Finger. Now," The Peacekeeper snapped. Samson had to bite his tongue to avoid asking why. He had the previous years and all he had gotten was chewed out, followed by the same old excuse of "So we can identify you,". His friends all went into the section for people their age, still making jokes about the reaping. Meanwhile, the escort, Roman Blanc, made his way onto the stage. He was walking like royalty and practically glowing with excitement. Tall and wiry, his long white hair was gelled into the perfect style. All of his clothing was made of fancy white silk, the exact color of his hair, if not a little brighter.

"Why hellooo District 9! I am _so_ happy to be escorting for you this year for the first time ever! And, if you haven't noticed, 9 is a higher up district than 10! Take _that_ Pierce!" He shouted right at the camera. People around Samson scratched their heads and mumbled in confusion. Who was Pierce?

"Anyway, today we will be reaping two lucky tributes to take part in the Hunger Games! Hopefully, things will be more exciting than that blasted District 11. So let's just watch a quick video describing how the games came to be, then we can reap the girls and boys! Okay?" Roman asked rhetorically in his jester-like voice. Samson and his friends took the video as an excuse to make more jokes, earning disgusted and weirded out looks and comments from the people standing around them. One girl seemed extremely shocked by their sense of humor and pushed through the crowd until there were a few people between her and the boys.

"Fun, fun, fun! Am I right? Oh well, let's reap the girls first," Roman said with a flash of his pearly whites. He strutted over to the girl's reaping bowl and snatched a slip after a long decision. He walked back to the microphone and took his time to smile once more before reading the name.

" _Not Cora. Not Cora. Not Cora,_ " Samson stated over and over in his head, praying for his 14-year-old sister not to be reaped.

"Poppy Miller!" Roman called out. A girl stomped onto the stage a few minutes later. Her thin frame and pale skin showed that she was definitely more wealthy than Samson or the people he lived near, and her attempt to stay strong and unemotional was a complete failure.

"Thanks a lot, fate. I'd slap you in the face if I could!" She snapped into the microphone, trying to sound as tough as possible. Unfortunately, her voice cracked and tears started to spill down her cheeks mid-sentence. Poppy quickly buried her face in her hands and walked behind Roman, far from view of the cameras. Marty Rye, mentor for District 9 for as long as people could remember, patted her on the shoulder. However, Poppy quickly swatted his hand away and continued to sob into her hands.

"Okay then… why don't we move onto the boys now?" Roman said with a nervous giggle. He plastered a fake smile onto his face and looked directly at the camera closest to him while blindly stumbling over to the boy's bowl.

"Our male tribute will be… Samson Trellis! Come on up here!" Roman cheered quickly. Davis gasped. Carter stared at Samson in shock. Roland said nothing, just stared ahead blankly. Samson burst out laughing.

"You've got to be kidding me! _You've got to be kidding me_!" He chuckled. But the stares of everyone around him proved that it wasn't a prank. This was for real. Samson kept on giggling, not sure what to do next. Should he go up on his own? Should he wait for the Peacekeepers to escort him? His question was answered when he finally stopped laughing and two brawny Peacekeepers arrived to take him by the arms and walk him up to the stage.

"I guess this is for real…" Samson whispered, barely audible. His vision was blinded by tears, and the guards clinging to his arms stopped him from wiping them away. But was it because he was laughing so hard, or because he was actually terrified?

* * *

 **Phew! That took a while to write, so I hope yall are proud of me!**

 **Chapter Question: What do you think of the characters introduced this chapter (Troy, Amara, Poppy, and Samson). Who is your favorite?**

 **So, I'll see yall next time for the 5 and 8 reapings!**


	8. District 5 and 8 Reapings

**Guess who's late? Me! I'm so sorry for this long period of no updates, but I'll assure you that this story isn't abandoned. I just hope you'll forgive me and enjoy!**

* * *

 **Isaak Atom, 12, District 5 Male**

Isaak was sprawled out in a chair, waiting for his parents to come out of their bedroom. His mother had set a bowl of cereal down in front of him so he could eat before the reaping, but he hadn't touched it. He was worried about his first reaping, and that was mixed with the fact that he just really didn't want cereal that day. Suddenly, Taya Atom, his mother, came out, dressed in a simple white blouse and shin length brown skirt. She walked over to Isaak's chair and ruffled his short brown hair, but frowned when she saw the bowl of uneaten cereal.

"Why haven't you eaten, honey? Are you sick?" She asked, bending down to feel her son's forehead for any sign of warmth and illness. Isaak ducked out of her grasp and shook his head quickly.

"I'm not sick, I just don't want cereal. I want toast," Isaak said. His mother stood up and took the untouched bowl of cereal.

"Well… I don't really think we have the time to make something else… but I guess I could. Oh, alright," Taya said. Her husband, Malcom, came out of the bedroom and sat down in the chair next to Isaak. Taya walked over to him and offered him the bowl.

"Want some cereal? Isaak didn't touch it. He wants toast instead," She explained. As Malcom took the bowl, Isaak sat back, satisfied. It was always so easy to get what he wanted from his parents.

"This cereal tastes really good. You don't know what you're missing, Isaak," Malcom joked, lightly elbowing Isaak in the ribs. Isaak scooted away from his dad and rubbed the spot where he had been poked. His father was obviously trying to get him to accept the cereal.

"Dad, are you working today?" Isaak asked, perking up as his mother came over with a freshly toasted piece of bread for him to eat.

"Not until later. After the reaping, I have to go straight back to the power plant for work," Malcom said between bites of cereal. Isaak pouted then asked his father another question.

"How about tomorrow? And the next day?"

"You know how it is, Isaak. I work from morning till night all week. The power plant needs a lot of work and it puts food on the table. We've been over this," Malcom said, reaching to ruffle Isaak's hair. Isaak batted his hand away and folded his arms.

"You never spend _any_ time with me! You're always at work now! The food Mom gets isn't as good, you don't buy me any more presents, and I just want to spend time with you!" Isaak whined. His parents exchanged a glance, and his mother rushed forward to comfort him before he broke out into a full on tantrum.

"Just because your father doesn't spend as much time with you, it doesn't mean he loves you any less. And after the reaping, you and I can spend some quality time together, just the two of us. We can play a board game, or watch TV, and I'll even buy whatever you want for dinner from the market," She offered in a soothing voice, wrapping her arms around him. Isaak nodded, then got off of his chair and wandered off into his bedroom, most likely to get ready.

"He just doesn't understand money," Taya whispered, shaking her head.

"Speaking of television, I heard from one of my co-workers last night that there's a big news segment going on about corruption between Gamemakers or something like that?" Malcom asked. Taya nodded, remembering the program she had watched the previous night.

"President Grand's assistant was found unconscious in the building. When she woke up, she had amnesia. The reporter said that they were having difficulty pinpointing who attacked her, but they are assuming that someone is targeting her," She said. Malcom nodded, but Isaak emerged from his room before he could ask any more questions. Isaak was dressed a little too casually for the reaping, wearing only a blue shirt and black shorts, but it was too late to go through the pain of getting him into formal clothing.

"Great! You're ready! Let's go!" Taya cheered, taking her son's hand so she could take him to the town square. Isaak planted his feet and pulled his hand away from his mother's.

"No. I want _Dad_ to take me," Isaak demanded. Malcom looked between his wife and son, before giving Taya a "what am I supposed to do?" look and taking Isaak's hand.

"Okay, little buddy. Let's get going!" He smiled and led him out the door, where his wife waved goodbye to them, calling out to say that she'd make sure to get to the reaping later. They walked through their district in silence until Malcom attempted to make a little bit of conversation.

"So… you scared? It's your first time. I was nervous at my first reaping," He said. Isaak shook his head silently.

"Well, at my first reaping I had taken some tesserae to help my parents, so the bowl had multiple slips that had Malcom Atom printed on them. My hands were shaking so much when the escort read the male tribute's slip, I thought I might faint or vomit. Or both." Malcom turned, smiling, to see if his son was smiling as well. However, Isaak was still stony faced, staring ahead. Malcom stopped smiling and stared ahead as well, praying that the odds were in his son's favor.

* * *

 **Dina Foster, 17, District 5 Female**

Dina stepped out of the way as more people passed her. She knew she probably shouldn't keep giving up her place in line, but 12-year olds kept on getting in line behind her and she wanted to let them pass first. A group of teens, most likely 18 or 17, got in her line and she finally stepped forward. Dina paused to smooth down her reaping outfit, which was a black and grey dress with a flared skirt. Some people weren't dressed as formally as she was, but Dina was fine with that.

"Finger please," The Peacekeeper asked. Dina calmly handed over her right hand and kept a straight face when he quickly pricked and stamped it. A group of preteens in the line next to her looked shocked and amazed at the fact that she was able to do it so easily. Dina moved out of line and into the crowds of teens, preteens, and borderline adults. The 17-year-old section was near the front, just behind the 18-year-olds, and Dina was able to find a place to stand at the area farthest from the stage. You could tell how old the children of the parents behind the rope barriers were just by looking at them. The ones standing at the edge, clinging to the rope and yelling out not to be worried most likely had 12-year olds. The ones near the back probably had 18-year-olds. It was simple.

"DON'T BE SCARED MARGIE! YOU'LL BE FINE!" A mother near Dina screeched at the top of her lungs. Dina stepped away a little bit to avoid getting her ears permanently damaged. As the escort, Cloudy Hale, made his way up to the stage, Dina was only able to see him as he passed in front of her to climb the staircase. He had dark skin, flawless of any blemishes or marks. His dark grey hair had a few streaks of black and light grey, and it was more fluffy than curly, resembling a cloud on his head. He was wearing a dapper suit, dark grey with light grey pinstripes, and pinned to the jacket was a light grey cloud shaped brooch with a happy face painted on it. A little strange, but not as weird as some of the escorts she'd seen on TV. Her mother told her that her escort loved a sweet called cotton candy so much that her clothing and wigs were made from it. _That_ was strange.

"Hello District 5! I have returned for my 7th year of escorting! Today we will be reaping the tributes for the 125th Annual Hunger Games, but first, have you _seen_ the weather today! It's so grey and cloudy! I _love_ it! Honestly, who needs sunshine when District 5 has the most beautiful gloomy weather!" Cloudy boomed into the microphone. Hallie Page, this year's mentor, tugged on his jacket sleeve from her seat and tapped her wrist as if to tell him to get on with it. Cloudy sighed and the Peacekeeper started the video talking about the creation of the Hunger Games and their symbolism. Dina remembered when she was first of reaping age and everyone in her section (including her) was whimpering in fear, worried that that was going to happen to them. The video came to a close and Cloudy fluffed up his cloud hair, preparing to reap the tributes.

"Let's start with the ladies this year," He said, strolling over and pulling out the slip of paper that held the name of that year's female tribute. The crowd held their breath as he unfolded it, drinking in the tension, and read out the name.

"Dina Foster," He said, a gasp coming from Hallie. Foster, though more of a common name, was the surname of Mia Foster, victor of the 107th Hunger Games. Millions of thoughts rushed through Dina's head. Was she going to die? Live? How was she going to survive? What if she was the first to die? Will someone volunteer? They would have already, right?

"Let me give you a hand," Cloudy offered, holding out his hand to her. Dina realized that she had calmly made it up to the stage while worrying in her head. She smiled, took his hand, and silently stood behind him to his right.

"And now for the gentleman joining this lovely lady," the escort announced, waving the slip of paper in the air.

"Isaak Atom," He called out. Dina heard a faint scream from the very back of the crowd as the camera zoomed in on him. He was crying, but wasn't moving a muscle. The Peacekeepers walked over and once he saw them, he bolted. He darted through the younger kids who made no effort to stop him. A few even cheered him on as the Peacekeepers chased after. One eventually caught up to him and slung Isaak, kicking and screaming, over his shoulder to carry him up.

"Mommy! Daddy!" He shrieked. A brunette couple ran to the front of the parent section, worried expressions on their faces. The Peacekeeper plunked Isaak down next to Hallie and went back to his post as Cloudy ended the reaping and turned back to the tributes.

"Okay, okay! Hi, my name is Cloudy Hale, but you can call me Cloudy. Your mentor is the lovely Miss Page. We have a lot to get done so let's get to the goodbyes as quickly as possible!" The escort said quickly, leading the kids into the Justice Building at the heart of the town square. Dina and Isaak are taken from the group into separate rooms. Dina's room was very plush and cushy, covered in fancy fabrics like velvet. The room reminded her of some of the rooms at her house in the Victor's Village. Mia Foster bursts into the room and grabs her daughter into a bear hug, tears streaming down her face.

"Now I know how my mother felt," She whispered into her ear. Dina pulled away, starting to cry as well.

"Play defensively. Make allies. Try to survive and not kill. That's how I won," Her mother told her in a shaky voice. Dina nodded and hugged her mother one last time. She was determined to make her mother proud.

* * *

 **Stella Moore, 18, District 8 Female**

"You're horrible at this game," Stella commented to Jax. Jax gave her an annoyed look and tried again, tossing a wadded up scrap of fabric at a cardboard box in the corner, missing it by a longshot. They had made it up a little while ago, a way to pass the time by in the Moore family's fabric shop.

"Well it's your fault for choosing fabric of all things. Why not buttons?" Jax complained, reaching for a bit of purple fabric.

"Well, if we used buttons, you'd win. And I certainly can't let that happen!" Stella teased. Jax rolled his eyes and made an overhand toss with the fabric, but missing the box once more.

"Don't you need to get ready, anyway?" She asked him. He rolled his eyes and went over to the box, collecting the bits of cloth all over the floor and placing them inside.

"I _am_ ready. Not all of us need to wear suit jackets and hair gel," He said. Stella sat up on her stool, smoothing down her dark red dress, which was cinched at the waist with a flower print belt. A matching headband pulled her light curls out of her face, and dark purple flats added a pop of color to the otherwise monochrome outfit.

"I'm just saying, isn't 8 supposed to be the stylish district?" She said. The two laughed at the stereotype their home had somehow picked up over the years of the games.

"Please, only career districts have the capability to be stylish," He said with a snort. It was very true, as well. She had seen the reapings, and the glamorous dresses and jewelry the female tributes from 1 and 2 got to wear. She envied them so much.

"So, now that you've rejected my new game, what do you want to do until it's 2?" She asked. Jax set the box down on the table, putting all the other fabric scraps into the box.

"Could we maybe, uh, take a walk? I want to show you something," He said quietly.

"Oh, you have a better game? With buttons?" She joked. He cracked a light smile.

"Nope. With spools of thread," He shot back. She laughed and followed him out the back door of the shop, over to the border of the district.

"The electric fence? Really?" She asked. "What, are we going to shock ourselves for entertainment?". Jax didn't laugh though, like he usually did no matter how bad her joke was.

"How long have we known each other?" Jax asked her. That caught Stella off guard.

"Um, about a year? I remember my parents telling me that they'd hired a cashier for the store, and I came out to see a scrawny 16-year old. But I knew that we'd be friends easily," She reminisced. "Why?".

"Well…they say that it takes 50 hours for people to move from acquaintances to friends…" He started, his cheeks a soft pink color, "But only 500 minutes for a person to fall in love,". Stella gasped and staggered backwards in shock, her cheeks flushing as well.

"W-what?" She stuttered. She was unsure what else to say.

"And, I really hope that you'll agree to do on a date with me after the reaping," He finished. His cheeks had changed from soft pink to bright pink. Stella stuttered, unable to form words.

"Jax…you're sweet. I care a lot about you but…I can't. I can't do this right now. Not here, not today, not after…" She started, trying not to let him down.

"After what?" He asked, not sure how to react to the rejection he had just received.

"I just can't fall in love right now, okay?" She whispered. Jax clenched his fists.

"Do you know how long I practiced that in the mirror? How long I've been keeping these feelings a secret? How long I've been subtly trying to tell you that I love you?" He asked, raising his voice louder and louder.

"Well I'm sorry if you don't know how to take no for an answer!" Stella snapped. "And if you can't, then maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore!". She spun around and stomped back to the shop, leaving Jax at the edge of the district.

* * *

 **Marcel Breuer, 17, District 8 Male**

Marcel squinted at himself in the mirror, styling his curly brown hair. He wanted to look cool, but effortless at the same time. And it was proving difficult to look like he had rolled out of bed looking as handsome as he currently did.

"Finally," He whispered to himself. His hair was finally styled to perfection. His white button down shirt was untucked from his slacks, and a navy blue tie was hanging loosely around his neck.

"Marcel dear, it's breakfast!" Sasha Breuer, his mother called from the dining room.

"Alright!" He called back, taking one last look in the mirror before leaving his bedroom and making his way through the elegant Breuer house. Sasha and his father, Reiner, were seated on one side of the table, while his brother and sister, named Porco and Annie respectively, were on the other side. Everyone had steaming bowls of oatmeal in front of them, and another bowl was in front of an empty seat between Porco and Annie. Small bowls of berries and nuts were in the middle of the table.

"Good morning," His older sister greeted. Marcel nodded a greeting and reached for some strawberries to put in his oatmeal.

"Are you ready to volunteer?" His father asked.

"Yes father," He chimed quietly, taking a bite of his hot breakfast.

"Well, the real question is, are you ready to win?" Reiner pressed.

"Yesh father," Marcel said with a mouth full of food. Porco giggled and began to eat his own food. Soon, the large room was completely quiet, except for the occasional sound of a spoon clinking against the side of a bowl.

"And Annie, I trust that you'll escort your brothers to the reaping," Sasha said, more of a command than asking for a favor.

"Yes mother," She replied sweetly. She stood up and pushed in her chair. Marcel and Porco did the same, hugged their parents goodbye, and the three quickly fled from the stiff, formal breakfast.

"So, Annie, have mom and dad found you a suitor yet?" Porco asked. Annie let out a sigh.

"Don't remind me. Arranged marriages are _so stupid_. I want to marry for love, not power," She folded her arms. The other two Breuer siblings nodded in agreement.

"Well, in Marcel's case, he'll just look for the hottest girl in District 8!" Porco teased.

"Still looking," Marcel pointed out. "But when I win these games, I'll find the hottest _capitolite_. Or even a girl from 1 or 2,". Annie rolled her eyes.

"You are _unbelievable_ ," Annie hissed, shaking her head slowly. The three stopped in front of the town square.

"You three know what to do. Just don't annoy any peacekeepers," Annie instructed. Porco wandered off to find his friends, but Marcel went straight to the peacekeepers and let them prick and stamp his finger quickly. He then looked around in the crowds until he saw Rachel, with her blonde curls and sunny yellow dress. He jogged up and threw his arm around her shoulders.

"Marcel!" She smiled. Rachel was Marcel's current girlfriend, and though she wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, she cared about him nonetheless.

"You look really nice in your dress," He complimented, leaning down to kiss her. She ducked out of the way.

"Not here!" She said quickly. Marcel rolled his eyes in his head, but nodded in fake understanding of her sudden need to be prude.

"I have to go to my section, okay?" He asked. Rachel nodded and made her way over to the 16-year-old section, while Marcel himself went to the section for his age group.

"Alright, attention. Attention," Dawn Meadows, the very old escort, said softly into the microphone. Her long, straight hair was a greyish-lavender color, and a pink and white flower crown sat gently on top. Her dress was white, with long sleeves and a long hem, and the flowing fabric of the dress made for an ethereal aesthetic.

"Thank you all for coming," She said slowly. "This is the reaping for the 125th Annual Hunger Games.". Frustrated whispers were all around Marcel. He agreed. She was just stating the obvious.

"They really should hire a new escort," He hissed under his breath as the video rolled. Once it was done, Dawn slowly walked over to the girl's reaping bowl, her walking stick decorated with different pastel flowers and curling at the top for a handle. She dug her way into the bowl and pulled out a slip. She then took the mic.

"Stella Moore," She said softly. A girl from the front row made her way up to the stage and politely shook Dawn's frail hand. She seemed to have something else on her mind.

" _The Capitol's gonna love her_ ," Marcel thought to himself. Stella was tall, kind, and absolutely stunning. She'd get sponsors. Marcel prepared himself for the male tribute.

"Henry Lunt," The escort called out.

"I volunteer as a tribute!" Marcel shouted, already working his way through the crowd of teenagers. He hopped up onstage, shook Dawn's hand, and smiled at the cameras.

"My name is Marcel Breuer, and I will be your male tribute!" He announced to the crowd and the cameras. As Dawn wrapped up the reaping, he shook hands with Stella, giving her a quick wink as their eyes made contact. He had this in the bag.

 **Once again, I apologize for the extremely late update!**

 **Chapter Question: What do you think of the tributes introduced this chapter (Isaak, Dina, Stella, and Marcel). Who is your favorite?**


	9. District 6 and 7 Reapings

**Hello, welcome back to the story! I honestly don't have much to say, so let's just jump right in!**

* * *

 **Merritt North, 14, District 6 Male**

"What did one eye say to another?" Merritt asked in a corny voice. The small group of young children sitting cross legged in front of him murmured to each other, then looked expectantly up at him for the answer.

"Hey, between you and me, something smells!" He finished. The children burst into giggles at the horrible joke, their little squeals of joy like music to Merritt's ears. He loved to hear people laugh.

"Tell another! Tell another!" A little girl in the front row of the clump begged. The others chimed in, agreeing with what she said.

"Alright, alright. What do you call a funny mountain?" He asked, once again in his corny joke telling voice. The kids gazed up in awe, waiting to hear the punchline.

"Hill-arious!" He said. The kids once again burst out laughing and Merritt couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. A tall woman with dark hair and a baggy sweater and skirt rushed forward from where she was standing in the corner.

"Alright kids, Merritt has to go now!" She said. The kids let out a collective whine of disappointment, but said thank you and waved goodbye as the woman walked Merritt to the door.

"Thank you for doing this. The children always get so tense on reaping day, especially when the teens of reaping age get ready," She said with a sigh. Merritt readjusted his thick glasses.

"It's my pleasure, Ms. Kobayashi. I was once in their seats and you're like a second mom to me. You're the reason I got adopted from this shelter," He said with a smile. Ms. Kobayashi smiled back and hugged him quickly before he left.

"Let me know if you want me to come back!" He yelled to her before jogging to the main road of the district. Merritt whistled to himself as he strolled on the side, in case a car or another form of transportation was to be taken on a test drive down the road. It wasn't often, but he did know some people that owned them or tested them out. Some people in his class at school even lived in broken down ones that had been refurbished into homes. Merritt himself had never seen one, but he didn't live in that area of the district.

"Hey Merritt, working on any new jokes?" Mr. Carlyle called out to him. Merritt turned and waved to the middle aged man. Mr. Carlyle frequently hired Merritt to babysit.

"I always am! Let me know if Tammy and Jamie want me to come over anytime!" He yelled back. Mr. Carlyle nodded and went back to reading his book.

"I'm home!" Merritt yelled out, once he returned home. He wandered into the kitchen and found his adopted mother, Carly, slicing an apple.

"Already home? Did the kids like your jokes?" She asked. Merritt nodded as she sliced the last part of the apple and placed the slices on a plate.

"Could you bring these to Avery? He had a panic attack while you were gone, and a snack always helps him calm down," Carly explained. Merritt nodded and took the tray, going into the bedroom he shared with his brother. Avery was curled into a ball on his bed, hugging his knees. He seemed to brighten up a bit at the sight of the snack, and Merritt set the plate down on the bed.

"Worried about the reaping?" He asked. Avery nodded and took an apple slice.

"So were the kids at the shelter. I am too," He said. Avery was already dressed for the reaping, in a casual white shirt and khakis. Merritt was yet to get ready, having thought it would be awkward to tell jokes in formal clothing.

"You'll get through this," Merritt told him, rubbing his knee. Avery smiled.

"Thanks, Mer. I'll have to thank mom for the snack, too," He said. Merritt left him to finish his snack so he could get ready. He had already decided on grey slacks and a blue button down shirt, and quickly put them on, rolling up the sleeves and smoothing down his red hair a little bit.

"Wanna walk with me to the reaping?" He offered Avery. Avery shook his head and gestured to the half-finished plate of apples. Merritt nodded and left the bedroom, going to the front door.

"Bye mom!" He said. Carly smiled and waved goodbye, and Merritt left the house, strolling through the district like he had earlier that day. Once again whistling a random he watched all the parents walking their children, clumps of friends, and the other typical people seen on reaping day. Merritt went into line and waited a little bit, resisting the urge to make any blood related jokes to the people in line with him or the peacekeeper pricking his finger.

"C'mon everyone, quickly get to your sections!" Hattie called out to everyone. Her deep purple hair was in tight curls, and her large peacock blue hat had large peacock feathers decorating it, and a matching fur coat and boots finished off the look without stealing the attention away from her hat. Merritt walked over to the 14-year-old section and kept from laughing at her hat, which was even more ridiculous than her sunflower hat the previous year.

" _I wonder if I could make a comedy routine around her hats,_ " Merritt thought to himself, completely ignoring the video they played. He snapped back to attention when he saw her purple-gloved hand reach into the bowl for the male tributes. She slowly pulled it out and read the name in her whimsical, high pitched voice.

"Merritt North!" She squealed. All eyes were on Merritt as his mouth dropped open. Not even sure what to say, he just walked forward, everyone stepping out of his way like he had a deadly illness. Stepping up onstage, he took the mic from Hattie and turned to the crowd of people.

"You-uh-ever heard the joke about the elephant and the coffee bean?" He asked, his voice cracking.

* * *

 **Celaeno Cruise, 18, District 6 Tribute**

Celaeno squinted at himself in the mirror, tilting a hip to one side and pushing his short, platinum blonde hair out of his eyes. She wasn't sure if she wanted to keep it loose or gel it back. Gelling it would make her look more formal, but keeping it loose helped her feel more like herself. Deciding against the gel, they finished buttoning up their collared shirt, reaching for the brown vest they laid across their bed. The dark brown matched the color of their slacks, making for a nice, matching outfit for her final reaping. Satisfied, he left his bedroom and went into the family room, which doubled as the Cruise family's dining room, due to the fact that their dining table was on one side, and their couches and television was on the other.

"Good morning," She said, going over and hugging her dads. Dasher was deep into an adventure novel, while Raymond was quickly scarfing down a piece of bread with some jam spread across it. On the coffee table, Celaeno noticed another plate with two pieces, set next to a half-eaten plate that most likely belonged to Dasher. His assumption was proved correct when Dasher leaned over and grabbed the piece, taking another bite and setting it down to return to his book.

"Hey," Raymond responded, mouth full. He swallowed before answering his kid again.

"How's your reaping day so far?" He asked, his words now understandable. Celaeno laughed.

"Dad, I just woke up. How am I supposed to know?" They asked. Raymond shrugged and the two laughed together.

"Ray, you should know that you have jam all over your lips," Dasher said, not looking up from his book. Raymond's laugh turned from a normal one to a sheepish one as he used his hand to wipe away the sticky food from his mouth. Celaeno finished his own bread and jam and stood up, wiping the crumbs from his hands.

"I'm gonna hang out with my buddies, 'kay?" They asked. Their dads nodded and they started for the door.

"No cruising around in your RV, though. There's lots of kids in the streets today and I don't need my child accidentally running any of them over!" Dasher called out to her. Celaeno nodded and left the house, out to search for his band of buddies.

It was quite easy to find Lix, since she was standing at the edge of the town square, standing quietly in a simple white dress. She turned and waved at Celaeno, who quickly jogged over.

"It's our last year," Lix said, a hint of relief in her voice. Celeano nodded and smiled, looking around for the rest of their crew. They managed to find Cab and Doyle holding hands and walking to the reaping together. Doyle noticed the two and waved, leading Cab over. Upon closer inspection, Celaeno noticed that Cab was clasping Doyle's hand tightly, a worried expression on her face. This was how she acted every year at the reaping, but luckily Doyle was always there to cheer her up. They were very good at staying optimistic, even on reaping day.

"Now we just need to wait for Bullet," Doyle commented, doing a head count.

"Wait no longer!" Everyone heard someone yell. They turned and saw Bullet sprinting towards them, and he quickly skidded to a stop before he crashed into anyone.

"Alright, time to get this reaping over with so we can hang out!" Bullet said enthusiastically. "Once all the kids clear out, we can totally go riding in Cel's RV!". Everyone seemed to calm down a bit, and walked over to the reaping while discussing post-reaping plans. After the quick blood drawing from the peacekeepers, everyone split off to go to their respective sections. Doyle went to the 16-year-old section, Cab and Bullet went to the 17-year-old section, and Celaeno and Lix went to the very front, where the 18-year-olds were to stand. Celaeno got one look at Hattie's peacock hat and smiled.

"It's crazy, but not _as_ crazy as when we were 16," He commented. Lix nodded and smiled back.

"Who even told her that squash was a good hat theme?" She said. Celaeno opened their mouth to reply, but was cut off by Hattie rolling the video on the history of Panem.

"Maybe next year she'll wear a history of Panem hat," He whispered. The video rolled to a close and Hattie wasted no time drawing the male name. It was some boy named Merritt North, who came up and told a really bad joke, clearly very nervous.

"Poor kid," Lix said softly. Celaeno nodded and watched as Hattie went over to the girl's reaping bowl. Her hand dug around a little bit and the people standing around Celaeno immediately tensed up. She finally pulled out a card and went over to the microphone, unfolding it and reading the name.

"Celaeno Cruise," she read out, looking around. Lix's eyes widened and she turned to Celaeno.

"Oh no," they muttered. They straightened up their posture and walked up to the stage, trying to look as brave as possible. He took the microphone from Hattie and turned to all the people, making sure that the camera could see and hear them as well.

"I'd just like to let you all know that I actually identify as trigender, not female. I'm fine with he/him, she/her, and they/them pronouns, and feel free to use them interchangeably," They said with a brave smile. Hattie smiled and nodded, taking a mental note not to refer to them as a female tribute.

"Also, a little note for my band of buddies, make sure to visit me in the goodbye room," She added before handing the mic back to Hattie. They then went over to Merritt and shook his hand. Cel could get through this. It was just another adventure.

* * *

 **Acacia Elm, 17, District 7 Female**

Acacia sat up in her small bed and stretched her arms, yawning loudly. She then immediately fell back, lying down again.

"Noooo…" She groaned, rolling over and trying to fall back asleep. After a little while, she realized that her brain was now fully awake. Acacia summoned enough energy to lift herself out of bed and stand up, stretching her upper body back and forth.

" _Is today reaping day?_ " She thought to herself, genuinely unsure. Still wearing her simple clothes from work the previous day, she left her small shack and stood outside for a bit.

"Hey! Nash!" Acacia shouted to the burly man, who was just leaving his own shack. Acacia lived in a small community of people, and each person payed for their own shack using money from forest work. The chipper lumberjack walked over to her.

"Is today reaping day?" She asked groggily.

"Don't tell me you forgot!" He asked. Acacia sighed and nodded. Nash threw back his head and let out loud, hearty laughter.

"Don't beat yourself up over it. You worked late yesterday," He reassured. Acacia then waved goodbye to him, going back inside her home to prepare. She changed out of her shirt and pants, throwing them across the room into the corner. She then went over to the small dresser that Nash was kind enough to make for her when she first moved out of her house and into the community. She pulled out a new pair of olive green work pants and a plain grey shirt. She didn't even own formal clothes, and she saw no need to spend wages on a dress for something like the reaping. She sat back down on her bed, resisting the urge to try and fall asleep again and skip the reaping altogether. Her brown work boots were sitting next to her bed, the soles covered in dried mud.

"Time to start the day!" She chirped sarcastically, getting up and leaving her small home.

"Want any breakfast?" Sylvia, a 19-year-old lumberjane that lived next door to Acacia, called out. Acacia nodded and she tossed her a yellow apple. Acacia caught it and took a bite before continuing out on her own.

"I don't know what to do with myself," She muttered. She was so used to working every day, and loved it, that on the off chance she had time to kill, she was sort of lost. Her mind went to the younger kids who would be at the reaping and if she could maybe help them. But then she remembered that most kids had parents to help them with that, and no one in the community had children. She was pretty much the closest thing to a child there.

"Hey Sylvia, need help with anything?" Acacia asked, turning around and going back towards her home. She took a few quick bites of the apple then tossed it behind her back. Sylvia shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I don't really have anything to do, except maybe my laundry…" She said, going inside suddenly. Normally, Acacia would have been offended, but Sylvia was sort of forgetful at times. She did that to everyone. Acacia sighed and turned to the dirt road leading away from the community and into the district. If she had nothing to do, she might as well get to the reaping and get it over with.

* * *

 **Leif Huntsman, 12, District 7 Male**

"Mooom," Leif whined as his mother, Magnolia, straightened his tie. She finished and stood back, looking at him with pride.

"Why do I even need to wear a tie. None of the other boys from school are wearing ties," He complained. He went to remove it but his mother stopped him.

"You look nice, and I'm sure that plenty of others will be wearing ties," She reasoned. Leif rolled his eyes and left the dumb grey tie alone. At least it wasn't brightly colored or patterned. Grey was a plain color that didn't stand out. But the tie was still embarrassing enough that he prayed for one other person in his class at school to be wearing a tie.

"Should I walk you to the reaping?" Magnolia offered. Leif shook his head, his light brown hair shaking with it.

"How about me?" His father called from another room in the house.

"No thanks!" Leif replied. "I can go alone!". He quickly hugged his mother goodbye and fled the house before they tried to convince him otherwise.

" _What if I just hid in a tree and didn't go,_ " Leif thought, looking at one of the many groves of trees that filled the district. His favorite thing to do was climb trees. He would sit in a tree for hours if he could. Soon, he arrived at the town square of his district, and as he got in line to get his finger pricked, something he heard kids at school talk about, he saw groups and groups of various friends, talking and laughing. He felt a twinge of envy, but pushed it out of his head and focused on the reaping.

"Finger," the peacekeeper demanded. Leif handed him his finger and the man pricked it and stamped it on the page. It stung, but he just took deep breaths and ignored it, as everyone else seemed unfazed by it. As he made his way out of the line, he went over to the 12-year-old section, which was in the very back. Rather than the escort, two VERY unhappy peacekeepers stood shoulder to shoulder on the stage. The one on the right shushed everyone and the town square went (relatively) silent.

"District 7! Are you ready to ROCK!?" A voice shouted. A blur of red sparkles pushed his way out from behind the two peacekeepers and jumped up in the air, landing on his knees and strumming an air-guitar. Leif couldn't see very well from where he was standing, so the escort stayed as a sparkly red blob.

"Ruby Rocker is HERE! Now let's reap the two lucky tributes!" He screamed into the mic. Leif wanted to plug his ears, but was worried about everyone looking at him weirdly. Ruby danced his way over to the girl's reaping bowl and quickly grabbed the closest one to the top.

"Acacia Elm, come on up here!" He shouted. He danced in place as a girl from a section near the front stomped up onstage, though not necessary angry. She avoided Ruby, firmly taking her place behind him and folding her arms. Ruby shrugged and danced over to the boy's reaping bowl, taking the closest slip to the top like with the girls.

"Leif Huntsman!" He shouted out. Leif gasped as whispers went out around him. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the tears to come. For everyone to laugh at him and make fun of him. But nothing happened. No tears came. Shocked, he made his way up to the stage and took his place next to Acacia. Ruby had them shake hands and as his and Acacia's eyes met, Leif was certain. He was going to die in that arena.

* * *

 **Chapter Question: What do you think of the tributes introduced this chapter (Merritt, Celaeno, Acacia, and Leif)? Who was your favorite?**

 **And with that, WE HAVE FINISHED THE REAPINGS! YAAAAAY! Next chapter will be the first part of the train rides, and I have put a poll on my profile regarding your favorite tributes! I hope you go vote on that too, :)**


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